THE HANDS 
 'COMPULSION 
 
 AMELIA E BARR
 
 S Q r r t*O( 
 Lv . s Slvd
 
 THE HANDS OF COMPULSION
 
 THE HANDS 
 OF COMPULSION 
 
 BY 
 
 AMELIA E. BARR 
 
 FRONTISPIECE BY 
 
 WALTER EVERETT 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 1909
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY 
 DODD, MEAD & COMPANY 
 
 Published, March, igog
 
 URL' 
 
 er-^n* 
 
 I INSCRIBE THIS STORY 
 
 WITH AFFECTIONATE RESPECT, 
 
 TO MY DEAR FRIEND 
 
 MRS. LOUIS KLOPSCH 
 
 AMELIA Ei BARR 
 
 DECEMBER, 1908.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I PRETTY ANNIE BRODICK i 
 
 II ANNIE'S ENGAGEMENT . . . .18 
 
 III MRS. LOCHRIGG'S OPINIONS ... 34 
 
 IV THE DEACON is REPROVED . . .51 
 V LOVERS ALL 83 
 
 VI THE GATE OF SORROW . . . .115 
 
 VII ROY ACCUSES HIMSELF . . . .141 
 
 VIII THE BEGINNING OF FORGETFULNESS . 161 
 
 IX A LITTLE TOO LATE . . . .190 
 
 X THE DEACON MARRIES AGAIN . . 207 
 
 XI ANNIE'S NEW LIFE .... 232 
 
 XII MARION FINDS THE WAY HOME . . 254 
 
 XIII THE EARL AND ANNIE BRODICK . . 275 
 
 XIV EAST OR WEST, HOME is BEST . . . 303
 
 CHAPTER ONE 
 
 PRETTY ANNIE BRODICK 
 
 BETWEEN the fertile shores of Ayrshire and the 
 rugged peninsula of Kintyre lies the beautiful island 
 of Arran; famous for the grandeur and loveliness of 
 its natural scenery, but far more famous for the 
 many romantic ties which link it to the world, and to 
 the church universal. For here the mighty Fingal 
 kindled his signal fires when the fleet of Agricola 
 darkened the waters of the Clyde. Here Ossian 
 the King of many songs came to wait for that dark 
 and narrow house, whose mark is one grey stone. 
 Here settled the great, silent, fighting Norsemen, 
 who hated lies, and whose religion it was to be brave. 
 Here Robert Bruce lit the beacon that was the dawn 
 of Bannockburn. Here the Stuarts hunted the red 
 deer, and Cromwell hunted the adherents of the 
 Stuarts. 
 
 It was also in this fair, rugged land that religion 
 pure and undefiled took the deepest root; for what 
 John Knox planted there, the Covenanters and the 
 Free Kirk perfected. No peasantry in the whole 
 world are so proud of their spiritual lineage, and so 
 learned in the Holy Book that makes their title clear
 
 2 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 to an heavenly inheritance brave, hardy, thought- 
 ful fishermen and farmers, walking erect in the ever 
 conscious dignity of being sons of God. 
 
 Such a man was Robert Brodick, trader and fisher, 
 whose cottage was in a cleft of the hills between 
 Brodick Bay and the coast of Corrie. Five hundred 
 years this cottage had stood in its naked, granite 
 strength. It had quite often been enlarged and re- 
 thatched, but its original unmortared stones were 
 as perfect as when Gillian Brodick first laid them 
 on the lovely, fertile acres given him by Robert 
 Bruce, for some great personal service. And 
 through that five hundred years Robert Brodick 
 could name his ancestors man by man fighters for 
 truth and liberty, and followers after righteousness 
 a spiritually royal lineage, which had moreover many 
 peers in this little isle of the Inner Hebrides. 
 
 One evening in the year 18 he was sitting at 
 the open door of his house watching the boats drift 
 slowly out to the fishing ground. He was then fifty- 
 five years old, healthy and handsome, with the mas- 
 sive stature of his people, a simple, dignified manner, 
 and a disposition serious, shrewd and straightfor- 
 ward the disposition of a man whose heart is within 
 his head, and who is therefore likely to keep an even 
 balance between his moral emotions and his mental
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 3 
 
 keenness. Anywhere, and under any circumstances, 
 he would have been instantly known as the most out- 
 standing of Scotchmen Scotch as the thistle on the 
 Scotch hills around him. 
 
 But as he sat by his open door this evening, there 
 was nothing aggressive about the man; he was soft- 
 ened and made responsive to his best self, both by 
 inward and outward influences inwardly, well 
 pleased at a certain circumstance he was waiting to 
 tell his daughter, meanwhile musing on it with great 
 satisfaction, and what he considered justifiable pride 
 outwardly, all nature appeared to be in his own 
 mood of peace and thanksgiving. The majesty of 
 the mountains that encircled him the boundless 
 ocean at his feet the grandeur of the setting sun 
 the evening songs of the birds the ethereal perfume 
 from the masses of wallflowers around all these 
 things spoke to him in that speech which only the 
 soul understands. And he sighed happily, and 
 turned his face heavenward, and unto the hills, and 
 over the blue ocean, and whispered softly in reply 
 " the sea is Thine, and Thou made it, and Thy 
 Hands fashioned the dry land." 
 
 After a moment's pause he rose, and sighing again, 
 went into the house place and looked around. His 
 daughter was not there. " Where at all is the las-
 
 4 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 sie?" he muttered. " She ought to be here long ere 
 this hour. She knows well I like to have her com- 
 pany as I sit resting myself a wee in the evening." 
 
 For a few moments he pottered around, lifted an 
 almanac and looked up the moon's age, took the 
 tongs and removed a big lump of coal from the fire, 
 complaining as he did so of " such extravagance as 
 burning fuel just to look at the blaze o' it " then 
 suddenly he went to the stair foot, and called in no 
 uncertain voice 
 
 "Annie Brodick, what for are you delaying? 
 I'm wanting to talk to you. Have you fairly for- 
 gotten that I am all by mysel' ? " 
 
 " I'll be downstairs anon, father." 
 
 " Make yoursel' in a hurry then." 
 
 " No, no ! " and the voice came nearer and ended 
 in a charming little laugh "No, no, father! 
 Hurry isn't wise-like. It's yourself I've heard say 
 many a time ' there's luck in leisure ' So leisure 
 a wee, I'll be there anon." 
 
 " Anon 1 anon 1 " the disappointed man grumbled 
 as he went back to his chair. " Just think o' a daugh- 
 ter saying * anon ' to her father, instead o' coming 
 instanter when he called her. The world is all agee 
 these last twenty years or mair." 
 
 He looked round the world again, but he had
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 5 
 
 lost patience and all things were a little different. 
 The sun was lower, the mountains and waters darker, 
 and the wind was rising- He thought it best to 
 carry his chair inside, and he did not do so without 
 the reflection that Annie always carried it for him, 
 when she was present. 
 
 In ten minutes he heard her light feet coming 
 down the stair, and he tried to assume the look of 
 a man robbed of some of his comforts. But the 
 sight of Annie dispelled all shadows; when she was 
 present he forgot her absence. Yet she was no angel, 
 either physically or morally, only a beautiful woman 
 with cordial eyes, and beaming face, a glory of 
 loosely-bound brown hair, and a tall, erect figure, 
 graceful in all its movements. She charmed, be- 
 cause she charmed, and if any of us had been her 
 angel, we would have given her all she wanted. 
 
 " Well, father, here I am ! Are you needing me 
 in particular?" 
 
 He glanced up at her with the demure satisfaction 
 of an undemonstrative Scotchman, and asked 
 " What for are you wearing that bonnie gown to- 
 night?" 
 
 "Do you like it, father?" 
 
 He glanced again at the soft blue merino, falling 
 so gracefully from its silk belt, and answered
 
 6 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "It's just extraordinar becoming to you. Hech! 
 If your poor mother, that's dead and gone, could 
 see you and the lasses o' this day, she would be filled 
 wi' consternation." 
 
 " Admiration, you mean, father." 
 
 " Not I. When I was a youngster, the lasses 
 were wise-like, and a man could hope to find a pru- 
 dent, loving wife among them; but now! Now, God 
 help the poor lads ! " 
 
 " I'm not doubting but what He'll require to 
 help them unless they begin to improve themselves. 
 Women can not, and will not, be kept back, because 
 the men folk won't go forward. Progress is our 
 motto, father." 
 
 " To be sure. And you call going over precipices 
 Progress ! " 
 
 " And what may. you call going over precipices, 
 father?" 
 
 " What you call * athletic clubs ' for one thing. 
 My old-fashioned, decent principles, Annie, won't 
 permit me to admire women who do their athletics 
 in public:" and he sniffed scornfully, and let his 
 stick strike the ground with all the emphasis of a 
 stamping foot. 
 
 " Maybe they had better do them in public than 
 in their own homes. Nelly Thompson thrashed her
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 7 
 
 goodman last week with locked doors between her 
 and the public, and the poor body isn't over the 
 thrashing she gave him yet. But then he deserves 
 more than he got so she says." 
 
 " Thompson is a meeserable drunken man as ever 
 lived. I'm not blaming Nelly. Whiles women have 
 to take the upper hand. They have done so from 
 the beginning." 
 
 " Women won't marry drunkards in the future. 
 They are learning too much for that folly." 
 
 "Sure! Learning! Of course, of course. Women 
 were the first to pull an apple from the tree of 
 Knowledge, and I have no doubt whatever, that 
 they are now bent on stripping the tree from the top- 
 most branch. They begin with the little, low 
 branches when they are bairns, and they go up, and 
 up, till they are clean out o' ordinar sight and under- 
 standing." 
 
 " We're getting on bravely, father. I'm proud 
 to say it. Look at myself for instance. I'm not 
 taking advantage o' you, as some daughters would, 
 but I say plainly, I stand more on stepping stones 
 than my poor mother ever felt free to do." 
 
 1 Your poor mother ! What are you meaning ? 
 Weel, weel, I have never been a match for one 
 woman if she was civil and I am not fool enough
 
 8 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 to flyte at every woman in the village, or I might 
 say in the whole o' Scotland, no to speak o' England 
 and the rest o' creation. Let that subject pass, it 
 isn't what I want speech with you about, this night. 
 We have wasted time already, for there's a Kirk 
 session at the half-hour after seven." 
 
 "What for is there a session to-night?" 
 
 " Anent an organ for the Kirk." 
 
 "Simple foolishness! There's no occasion for 
 an organ. Our choir is as fine as can be. I'm clear 
 against the expense o' it." 
 
 " You were strong about that grand piano for the 
 Woman's Club." 
 
 " That was altogether a different circumstance." 
 
 " I'll likely bring the Minister back with me, and 
 you can get him on your side o' the argument; for 
 he's your lover reputit and this afternoon he con- 
 fessed the same. Most respectful he spoke to me, 
 as was only proper and becoming." 
 
 "Father, whatever are you havering about?" 
 
 " About that fine young man, the Rev. Mr. Saun- 
 ders. You don't require to be told what you know 
 well. And I say this, he is as good a man, as any 
 sinful woman ever had the offer of, for a husband." 
 
 " I don't care what he is." 
 
 '" A handsome, clever young minister forgetting
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 9 
 
 his books for your sake! What are you expecting, 
 Annie Brodick? " 
 
 " Not the Minister. He is the last o' my expecta- 
 tions and I may say o' my wishes." 
 
 " He signified his intention of coming here after 
 the session, and he will doubtless be offering him- 
 self to you. Now, I am heart and soul with the Min- 
 ister, and I hope you will not dare to counter me in 
 this matter." 
 
 "Father, how can I marry the Minister? I 
 fairly hate his becks and bows, and his * Miss 
 Brodick's,' his small white hands, and his tight-fit- 
 ting * blacks.* I, that have lived all my life among 
 men with the sea and the wind in their hair men 
 who come home day after day with that grand look 
 on their faces, that is only got by those who wrastle 
 with winds and waves in the very presence of death. 
 I, that know men best in their blue Guernseys, and 
 big sea boots, and their storm ' oils ' ! The Minister 
 is not my kind. He is good, and he may be great in 
 his way, but I know lads that are ten feet high be- 
 side him." 
 
 " But the good man is loving you, loving you, he 
 says, parfectly and unspeakably." 
 
 " I'm not caring for him to speak. What would 
 a girl like myself do in a manse? And it is a Glas-
 
 io The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 gow pulpit he is seeking, and how could I live in the 
 city, and away from the sight and the sound o' the 
 sea? I could not. It is simply unthinkable, father." 
 
 " Listen to me, Annie. The Minister is well-to- 
 do. It is not a stipend he is depending on. He has 
 dry siller in the Bank o' Scotland, and O my dear 
 lass, I would be fain and proud to see you marriet 
 on him. It is a great thing to belong to the Kirk 
 and the ministry." 
 
 " Maybe, father, it is just as great to belong to 
 the men who belong to the sea. The first Kirk was 
 a boat, and the first ministers came out o' the boats. 
 I am clear-minded to marry among my own people. 
 Until my mother died, you were in the boats your- 
 sel', father, and when you stood at the wheel o' The 
 Maggie Brodick and led forty sails to the fishing 
 grounds o' the great North Sea, you were in as fine 
 a pulpit as man ever stepped to; and you would not 
 have changed it for the velvet-covered one in any 
 Glasgow Kirk. I ken that, sure ! " 
 
 " You ken nothing o' the dignity and power o' 
 the pulpit. I'm not expecting any lass to do that. 
 We'll drop the subject. Just consider a moment the 
 siller the man has, I was hearing it named at 5000. 
 He has been aye preaching Progress to you women 
 folk, and he canna go behind his own words. So
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 11 
 
 then, he has the means to let you take time and op- 
 portunity to * progress ' to the end o' the world, if 
 you want to go that far." 
 
 " I can go further than that, without his siller or 
 his teaching. I'm not belittling money, not I, and 
 I would never refuse it at any reasonable exchange. 
 But to marry the Rev. Mr. Saunders, and me not 
 loving him, would be a sworn lie to God and man. 
 You would never ask me to forswear my own soul ! " 
 
 " I would cut out my tongue first." 
 
 " I know that." 
 
 " There is one more counsel to give you if you'll 
 take it, Annie, men of the sea differ. Some are 
 good, and some are bad; and I'll tell you plainly, 
 that Roy Morrison is not an improving companion 
 for any good girl. I am saying nothing against his 
 brother Willie, but Roy is not what he should be. 
 You be to take care o' yoursel' wi' the like o' Roy 
 Morrison, my lass." 
 
 " Have you heard any special ill of Roy Morri- 
 son, father?" 
 
 " There is a story afloat to-day, but it isna fully 
 proved yet. I wonder you haven't heard it from 
 some one or ither. But this, or that, I have taken 
 the lad's measure, and I think him but a poor crea- 
 ture. I am judging him myself. I heard him talk-
 
 12 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 ing about women a few days ago to Robert Sennex, 
 and I know this when lads give bad characters to 
 young women, they have worse characters them- 
 selves." 
 
 "Why did you let him do it, father?" 
 
 " I did not let him do it. I very quickly told 
 him that the lad who spoke ill of women murdered 
 his own mother's good name. He is a cunning, 
 stealthy lad, and you will require to read him back- 
 ward. Forbye he has got up an ugly quarrel with 
 his brother Will anent you." 
 
 " I'll have nothing to do with lads who make 
 quarrels out o' me; and I shall tell both o' the Morri- 
 sons that much, quickly. What were you hearing 
 about the quarrel, father?" 
 
 " I will tell you what I heard. It seems Will 
 Morrison bought a new boat just a small yawl 
 and he called her The Annie Brodick. And Roy 
 Morrison also bought a new yawl, and he called his 
 The Bonnie ^Annle. Last night some ill-willy fool 
 passed a smirch o' black paint over the name on 
 Will's boat, and he is thinking it was his brother 
 Roy's doing and saying so." 
 
 " It was a shameful thing for anyone to do. It 
 was my name they blacked. Are you minding that 
 fact, father?"
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 13 
 
 " Is it at all likely I'm forgetting it? See that 
 you keep it in mind. If Will does not get at the 
 truth, I shall sift the facts myseF till no lie is left 
 in them." 
 
 " I cannot think Roy did a wicked thing like that. 
 Roy and Will were always brotherly " 
 
 " Until you came between them." 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 "They weren't very brotherly as I passed them 
 this afternoon. Will was stroking his arms bare to 
 the shoulder just asking for a fight, you ken and 
 Roy went by him wi' such an ironical look, and such 
 a scornful laugh, as might well raise the deil in any 
 heart not full o' the grace o' God." 
 
 " Does Roy admit that he did the shameful 
 thing?" 
 
 " Roy admits nothing. Like a Scotchman in a 
 strait, he gets behint his questions. * Does anybody 
 think he would do the like? Will anybody say he 
 did do it? Was it likely he would blacken the name 
 he loves best in a' the world ? Do folks take him for 
 a fool? What would he make by such a dirty 
 trick ? ' and the like remarks. And all the time storm- 
 ing and swaggering like the sea gone mad. I'll just 
 leave the story to your consideration, Annie. Make 
 what you think out o' it, but if you would be guided
 
 14 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 into the safety and respectability, the Minister could, 
 and would give you " 
 
 " Father, the Minister is clean out o' the question." 
 
 " Well, well, I see that I have spoken too late. I'll 
 away to the byre, and look after the beasts before I 
 go to the Kirk. And it comes to my heart this night, 
 how the Almighty Father felt, when he said by his 
 servant Isaiah the ox knoweth his owner, and the 
 ass his master's crib, but Israel his bairns, you ken 
 doth not know; my people my bairns do not 
 consider." 
 
 " Father, I'm fairly ashamed o' you likening your 
 own leal, loving daughter to those headstrong, mur- 
 muring Jews, that no King could govern, and that 
 God himself couldn't please. It isn't kind o' you. 
 It isn't just. You know well I shall do the thing 
 that is right, if I break my heart to do it." 
 
 "What talk is there of breaking hearts? All par- 
 feet nonsense! A good heart never breaks. It has 
 no occasion to break. What you cannot change, you 
 can call * the will of God,' and if you will what God 
 wills, then there is peace. Never let me hear you 
 speak again of any such foolishness as a breaking 
 heart." 
 
 He waited for no reply, and Annie was not in- 
 clined to make one. She walked into the garden,
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 15 
 
 and leaning on the stone wall that surrounded it, let 
 the fresh breeze blow into her hair and face, and her 
 eyes wander over the beautiful land. The sun had 
 set, but there was still a mist of gold and purple 
 over the mountains, standing like a great host at 
 rest; yet opening out here and there, into wistful 
 stretches of daffodil sky. The heavens were full of 
 stars, which threw into the grey twilight a white 
 sidereal radiance. Suddenly a thrush sang out joy- 
 ously, and its song found a quick echo in Annie's 
 hopeful heart: 
 
 " You bonnie bird," she said, as she turned her 
 head to the bush where the minstrel sang above his 
 brooding mate " You bonnie, bonnie bird! If you 
 can trust, I can trust. If you can love, I can love. 
 If you can sing, I can sing; " and forthwith the soft, 
 still night was thrilled with a melody so simple, and 
 so exquisite, that all nature seemed to listen to the 
 liquid music of notes, that lovers have sung for a 
 thousand years, and may sing for a thousand years 
 longer if Love lives, and music lives to speak for 
 love : 
 
 " I love ne'er a laddie but one, 
 
 He loves ne'er a lassie but me; 
 He is willing to make me his own, 
 And his own I am willing to be."
 
 1 6 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 The disappointed and unhappy father listened, and 
 sighed heavily, and at the same time almost uncon- 
 sciously gave the beasties an extra armful of fod- 
 der. Memory was busy with his heart his wife had 
 sung the same song to him he recalled one might 
 in particular, then suddenly checking his reminiscent 
 self, and muttering " There's no fool like an old 
 fool," he locked his barn, and going to the house, put 
 on rapidly his street coat, and with it such reasonable 
 reflections as a proposed Kirk-session called forth. 
 
 Annie walked to the gate and opened it for him, 
 and he said sarcastically though the sarcasm was 
 veined all through with unsuspected pathos 
 
 " I wouldn't turn poetical for any sake, Annie." 
 
 "Poetical?" 
 
 " Ay, I heard you singing love songs I infer." 
 
 " Ay, just love songs. What for not ? I was sing- 
 ing the truth, and there's nothing so poetical as the 
 truth." 
 
 "What are you saying? You know well that 
 truth and poetry are far-off acquaintances." 
 
 "Tut, father! Take, for instance, King David's 
 poetry. No finer was ever written, and all because 
 it is the evendown truth. Good poetry is always 
 
 true." 
 
 " I have not the time to refute you now. I'll set
 
 Pretty Annie Brodick 17 
 
 you straight some other hour;" and he went dourly 
 forward. But when he was a little further down 
 the hill, he heard a faint, and fainter echo of the 
 words he knew so well 
 
 " I loved ne'er a laddie but one, 
 
 He loved ne'er a lassie but me; 
 He's willing to make me his own, 
 And his own I am willing to be." 
 
 And with his stick he struck to the ground a bunch 
 of nettles he was passing, muttering as he did so, 
 " I'm feared there's mair truth than poetry in that 
 old song it is a troublesome world What for are 
 we wanting organs? there's no comfort in an or- 
 gan. I'll just vote against it."
 
 ANNIE'S ENGAGEMENT 
 
 WHEN the song was finished Annie stood as still as 
 if she was listening for its echo. Perhaps she was. 
 Also, the silent spaces of the Spring evening em- 
 balmed in perfume of wallflowers was wonderfully 
 alluring. The bat's fine cry, almost too fine for com- 
 mon ears, was all the landward sound audible; but 
 on the beach below, the waves were coming up among 
 the pebbles with a lively cadence. She was about 
 to go into the house when she heard a step and a 
 voice that made her heart ring to the tune they set. 
 For she had been expecting Roy Morrison. She felt 
 sure that he would throw up every engagement, in 
 order to come and clear himself in her eyes. If 
 he did not, she was prepared to count his delay 
 against him. But Roy was going to come up to her 
 expectation, and she glowed and beamed with satis- 
 faction, as she stood leaning on the old wall watch- 
 ing his approach. 
 
 " Now I shall have the truth, and the whole 
 truth," she mused; " and things aren't going one bit 
 farther between us until I get it." 
 
 The next moment Roy saw her, as if shining in 
 
 18
 
 Annie's Engagement 19 
 
 the dim twilight; a little white scarf across her shoul- 
 ders, and a white bow at her throat. And he waved 
 his cap above his head, and came forward as rapidly 
 as the ascent permitted. He. was a dark, slim youth ; 
 much sunburned, with curling hair, splendid teeth, 
 and a voice that might wile a bird from a tree. But 
 manner is the physiognomy of the mind, and a finer 
 index to the character than the face. And Roy's 
 manner was not an assuring one. Women generally 
 accepted him at his own valuation, and he appeared 
 guileless to them; but men saw that he never did 
 anything without reflecting whether he had bettei 
 do it. He was full of small alluring faults, that 
 women defended and even forgave; but men made 
 a clearer estimate of their reason and tendencies, 
 and therefore in spite of his ha! ha! manner, they 
 judged him to be selfish and untruthful, and that 
 without any moral disquietude. 
 
 " His faults are in the grain o' his nature, and 
 what will you do, when that is the case? " asked an 
 old fisherman of a little company discussing Roy. 
 " There's no moral or spiritual atmosphere about the 
 lad, so then it stands to reason, people feel uncom- 
 fortable wi' him." 
 
 " Right, Campbell, you are perfectly right there," 
 answered an old schoolmate of Roy's; " in a theo- 
 logical sense, he seems incapable o' grace."
 
 2O The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "I'm not so sure o' that," interrupted a young 
 fisher. "I lay it doon as a fundamental principle, 
 that if a good woman takes up wi' a man, there's 
 good somewhere in that man. And when a man loves 
 a good woman, you needna put him down as clean 
 outside, and beyond the grace o' God. Now, Annie 
 Brodick is setting Roy above all the men she knows, 
 and Roy is spelling Life with one word, and that 
 word is, Annie. I'd put them two facts together, 
 and give Roy the benefit o' them." 
 
 " Surely," answered Campbell. " Give the lad 
 fair play, but if any o' you are thinking o' making a 
 friend o' Roy Morrison, I would advise you to get 
 acquaint wi' him, as carefully as you did wi' your 
 first razor and then, I'm feared you'll find in 
 the end, the usual accident wi' razors has befallen 
 ypu." 
 
 This conversation represented fairly enough the 
 divided opinion about the young man; but Annie 
 heard little of the village gossip. . Her position as 
 Robert Brodick's heiress, and the superior education 
 she had received, set her apart from the ordinary 
 fisher or farm girl. And Annie knew her advantages, 
 and was well inclined to take them at their full value. 
 She had always listened with scorn to the innuendoes 
 against Roy coming from the village, and even her
 
 Annie's Engagement 21 
 
 father's story of the painting out of her own name, 
 did not strike her as a likely one. 
 
 " Roy is a prudent man about his own welfare," 
 she reflected, " far too prudent to risk the loss o' my 
 love, and my hand, for a bit of spite like yon and 
 against his own brother, too. I'm not believing a 
 word o' such an unlikely tale. I shall ask him plainly 
 about the matter this very hour, and he'll give me 
 the negative, straight and strong, no doubt o' that." 
 
 And when Roy stood at her side, and throwing his 
 arms around her, cried with the passionate hurry of 
 love, " Annie, Annie, my beauty! My darling Annie! 
 come down to the water side, and have a walk and a 
 talk with me ! " she had not a shadow of doubt con- 
 cerning Roy's innocence left. Then she grew sud- 
 denly ten times lovelier. The ancient ecstasies of 
 youth and love filled her heart, and it throbbed like a 
 hive in June: 
 
 " I would like to walk down to the water, Roy," 
 she answered, " but father has gone to a Kirk meet- 
 ing, and he does not care to have the house left to 
 the servant lass." 
 
 "I'm glad the auld man is out, my beauty! If 
 he was here, he would be sure to say ' You can't go, 
 Annie; it is too late, and near the exercise'; or, 
 * There's a fog coming from the east,' or the like o'
 
 22 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 that. Take your ain leave for once. You arena a 
 bairn now." 
 
 " Ay, but I am. I'm father's bairn, always." 
 
 Then they sat down together on the garden wall, 
 and after a while Roy asked, " What time will the 
 auld man be back? " 
 
 " Do not speak of father in that way," answered 
 Annie. " I'm not liking it. Father is not old. He 
 can do as big a day's work yet as any man in Arran ; 
 and he has neither sign nor feel of old age ; God for- 
 ever bless him 1 " 
 
 " I am meaning no harm, Annie. But I don't for- 
 get that he was speaking very sharp to me, a few 
 days syne and I can tell you, I'm not liking that. 
 But for you, my dearie, I would have given him 
 as good as he sent." 
 
 " Whatever were you saying, Roy, to make father 
 sharp with you ? " 
 
 " I was just saying a few words to Will Sennex 
 about Mattie Robinson, and her lovers. The lass is 
 a very butterfly o' vanity and conceit, and any lad 
 that will flatter her can " 
 
 " Roy, I'm not caring to hear about Mattie Rob- 
 inson. It is few people know her well enough to 
 judge her." 
 
 " Maybe, but there is not a man or woman between 
 here and Inachar that does not ken how poor Archie
 
 Annie's Engagement 23 
 
 Lagg is treated by that wife o' his. Whiles, she 
 won't let him go into his ain kitchen * Oot o' here, 
 Archie Lagg,' she cries; 'the kitchen isna a man- 
 body's parish.' No wonder the man is driven to 
 Lucky Laird's public. But that isn't the worst o' 
 the creature, she won't go to the Kirk her husband 
 thinks she ought to go to. She tells him she can 
 think for herself." 
 
 " How can she have the presumption ? " asked 
 Annie with a dubious little laugh, whose mocking 
 character Roy did not notice. " Jenny Lagg must 
 have got fairly beyond herself; Saint Paul would 
 never have believed such a woman within the possi- 
 bilities-" 
 
 " Indeed he would not," answered the unsuspicious 
 young man. " You know, Annie, it is the Scripture 
 rule that women shall ask their husbands about 
 things they are just naturally ignorant of. And I 
 was just saying this, and that, about women in gen- 
 eral, when the auld man I mean your father 
 snapped me up wi' a very impertinent remark about 
 my ain mother. I don't know what was in his mind, 
 he was in a most provoking temper." 
 
 "I'll tell you what was in his mind, Roy; he was 
 hearing something I cannot believe possible about 
 your brother Will's boat." 
 
 " Yes, I know what you are meaning."
 
 24 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Someone was saying that it was you yourself 
 that did the deed but I am sure that is simply 
 unthinkable." 
 
 " Of course. Of course it is. Would I for any 
 thing smirch the name o' the woman I love better 
 than my own life ? I would be a born fool to do it. 
 I would think shame o' myself forever." 
 
 They had in their sauntering reached a little gar- 
 den seat, and Roy sat down and drew Annie lovingly 
 to his side. He then tried to turn the conversation, 
 but Annie was not satisfied. 
 
 " Roy," she said, " I'm not doubting you, but no- 
 body would believe how this report troubles me; and 
 what I am requiring, is, that you give me the denial 
 straight, and strong, and plain. Plenty of folk will 
 anon bring the ill story to me, and I want to be able 
 to speak the words for you, that you may perhaps 
 be too proud, and too angry, to speak for yourself. 
 So then, my dear Roy, did you paint your brother's 
 boat-name out! Or did you not?" 
 
 " I did not do it, Annie. I never laid a finger on 
 Will's boat. Whatever way can I make it clearer to 
 you? I will swear it, if you want me to take God 
 to witness an oath anent such a dirty trick." 
 
 " No, no ! If I could not take your word, Roy, I 
 would think still less o' your oath. Yes, or no, is
 
 Annie's Engagement 25 
 
 enough for any man to say; more is just a weak- 
 ness." 
 
 "I say, No! then." 
 
 " That is all I want." 
 
 "And I'll be upsides with them that set you to 
 question an honest man that loves you. Such a like 
 stir and fuss to make about nothing but a few painted 
 letters." 
 
 " Roy! Whatever are you saying?" 
 
 " I'm saying, a few painted letters, in a place 
 where they had neither right nor reason to be. What 
 business had Will to put your name on his boat? 
 Somebody gave him what he deserved, and as far 
 as Will Morrison is concerned, I'm thinking it was 
 neither crime nor misdemeanor. I'm not going, 
 now, into what we may call the ethics o' the circum- 
 stance." 
 
 " Keep your temper in hand, Roy. We need not 
 discuss the ethics of the matter now, for you have 
 said plainly you did not blacken my name." 
 
 " And I'll say more, Annie, I'll say that there will 
 be a bad hour for whoever did do it. When I find 
 the scoundrel, I'll give him a reminder that will last 
 his life-days." 
 
 " If you lift your hand, with my name as reason 
 for it, I'll never change speech with you again.
 
 26 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Never, Roy Morrison. You have given me all I 
 want a clear, straight denial. Tell me now, who 
 do you think is the guilty person?" 
 
 "What for are you wanting to know that?" 
 
 " Because I would try to give whoever it may be 
 ' a very decided warning. I am knowing well the 
 look I saw on my father's face, as he told me of 
 the shameful bit o' malice the blacking out o' my 
 name and my father's name too for you know fine 
 his name is far beyond a stain; and there isn't man or 
 woman in Arran that can show a more honorable 
 record." 
 
 " Sure I Deacon Brodick is just parf ect humanity. 
 Every one from Lamlash to Loch Ranza, and even 
 as far as Glasgow itsel', has heard tell o' the right- 
 eousness o' Deacon Robert Brodick. What did the 
 Deacon say? " 
 
 " He said very little. But just because he had few 
 words, and no threats in his mouth, I know he in- 
 tends to make an example of the blackguard, who- 
 ever he may be. So I would fain warn him, either 
 to confess his fault to the Deacon, and so get his for- 
 giveness, or else put himself out o' the reach of his 
 just anger. If you have a likely surmise o' the man 
 who was guilty of such contemptible spite, I wish 
 you would give me his name in confidence Roy."
 
 Annie's Engagement 27 
 
 " I think Will Morrison did the deed, with his 
 ain hands." 
 
 ' You are not knowing what you say, Roy." 
 
 " I know fine. I say Will Morrison did it his 
 ainsel'. He thought I would get the blame o' it, and 
 so lose your love and respect. Confound the meeser- 
 able creature I " 
 
 " You are positively mistaken, Roy. Will did not 
 do it. I would as soon blame myself. An act like 
 that is clean below and beyond him. The simple 
 thought of blackening his heart and his hands in 
 yon way, would never enter Will's mind. You fright 
 me, Roy. You fright me. If I could believe you 
 tut! tut! the thing is impossible." 
 
 " What for will you set yourself in such a blaze o' 
 passion? Let the black mark pass. We have sweeter 
 things to talk about. I am asking you this minute to 
 be my wife. I want your * Yes.' I will not listen 
 to * No.* If I am right in thinking you love me, 
 Annie, say * Yes.' I am that anxious, I am fairly 
 trembling with the fear you did not mean aught by 
 the smiles you have blessed me with, and the kiss you 
 have let me take this very night. Annie, my sweet 
 lassie, say 'Yes.' If you don't I shall go to the 
 mischief. I know that." 
 
 " Whist, Roy 1 Do you think I can be frighted
 
 28 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 into marrying you? I am not that kind of a woman. 
 And if I believed you were a man likely to go to the 
 mischief, for anything that a woman might do to 
 you, I would say a hundred-fold * No ' this very 
 minute. But " 
 
 " But you will trust me, Annie ? You will love 
 me in spite o' all my shortcomings. Oh, my bonnie 
 Annie! give me the one word that will make me 
 prouder than King or Kaiser. Will you be my wife, 
 Annie?" 
 
 And love imputes no motive, sees the bright side, 
 puts the best construction on everything; and has 
 besides many reasons that reason does not under- 
 stand. So Annie said ' Yes,' and then permitted her 
 lover to taste the sweetness of her surrender. She 
 allowed herself to confess that she loved him, that 
 she had long loved him, and that she would love him, 
 and only him, to the end of her life. And the tide 
 came murmuring up, and the moon rose and silvered 
 the seaward stretches, and there was a sense of dream- 
 land in the sweet, lovely garden where they told their 
 tale of love, and believed it to be something sacred 
 and special to their own experience. And in that in- 
 timate ardor all inquietude was dispelled. 
 
 As the clock struck ten the Deacon opened the gate 
 and saw the lovers sitting in the moonlight on the
 
 Annie's Engagement 29 
 
 seaward wall. He saw them before they were aware 
 of his presence, and he understood their attitude of 
 perfect confidence and affection. He knew then what 
 he would have to hear, and he tried to prepare him- 
 self for it. If Annie was resolved to marry this man, 
 he must at least bear his disappointment without 
 whimpering, and with such silent dignity as befitted 
 an officer of the Kirk. 
 
 It was, however, a bitter trial, for he found out 
 that hour how great was his dislike for Roy Morri- 
 son, and how much he feared his influence over his 
 daughter. Also, he felt a little hard toward Annie. 
 She knew that Roy was most objectionable to him. 
 She knew that he mistrusted his moral nature, and 
 that the general feeling in the village was a preju- 
 dice against Roy Morrison, though it was hard to 
 say on what grounds this prejudice existed. For 
 Roy was a prompt observer of all that the little com- 
 munity held in respect a constant sitter in the Kirk, 
 and a ready helper, whenever there was any stress 
 of extra labor. Still, for all this apparent good will, 
 Roy did not strike the right note. And he noticed 
 with bitter anger on what a different footing his 
 brother Will stood. 
 
 Will made no particular efforts to please, yet every- 
 one liked him, and had a pleasant word and smile to
 
 30 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 give him. He had no great social qualities, no funny 
 stories to tell, and his dancing was the dancing of 
 a heavy man. He was shy with women, and every 
 unmarried girl knew that he loved Annie Brodick, 
 and was quite insensible to the charms of any other 
 beauty. He gave no gifts but to children, who all 
 adored him ; and his sole claim to popular favor ap- 
 peared to be a good, simple heart that the young- 
 est understood, and the oldest and poorest put their 
 trust in. 
 
 " If it had been Will Morrison 1 " said the father 
 to himself " if it had only been Will ! I wouldn't 
 have regretted the Minister so much. I could have 
 respectit Will, and I would not have been ashamed 
 of him among the great and honorable company o' 
 my forefathers. But Roy ! Roy is different." And 
 the Deacon stirred the fire, and sat down full of a 
 sad disappointment. " Life is just a battle," he con- 
 tinued, " and we cannot shirk it, but, Oh, the weari- 
 ness of wrastling with your own thoughts, and get- 
 ting bruised in the encounter! Of being strong 
 enough to fight and not strong enough to conquer. 
 Ah! " 
 
 Then the young people, who had been notified of 
 his return home by the blaze on the hearth, came 
 towards the house. He heard their steps, and rose
 
 Annie's Engagement 3 1 
 
 from his chair and stood waiting their approach. He 
 knew what was going to be said, and he thought he 
 had prepared himself for the words; yet when Roy, 
 with the pride of a newly-engaged man, referred to 
 Annie as his " future bride," the Deacon grimly 
 smiled and answered 
 
 " Weel, weel, that will do for a passing remark." 
 
 "I hope you have no objections, Deacon?" in- 
 quired the lover with a slight tone of offense at his 
 want of appreciation. 
 
 " No, no. The circumstance is not likely to be 
 far out o' the way," was the doubtful reply. 
 
 " I can assure you that I love Annie. She is my 
 first love, and I would die for her." 
 
 " Nonsense, man ! Only fools die for love. Wise 
 men and women generally live to thank God that 
 they did not get the first, foolish desire o' their hearts. 
 We will make the exercise now it has been waiting 
 more than fit, on your self-seeking." 
 
 When the worship was over, Roy, who wished to 
 conciliate, said a few words about its excellency, add- 
 ing, " We are going to have a big musical reunion in 
 the Village, Deacon. I have the charge of it, and it 
 would be a great thing for us all, if you would take 
 the chair." 
 
 But the Deacon shook his head, and answered
 
 32 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 sharply " I'll not go a footstep. A musical re- 
 union 1 It is just incredible misery." 
 
 Then Roy said "Good-night." He felt hurt, 
 though he could give no reason for the feeling, but 
 he revenged himself by an ostentatious appropriation 
 of Annie, and a long whispered conversation outside 
 the door. And Annie was proud and silent when 
 she came back to her father, whose dropped head and 
 brooding face was a kind of reproach that irritated 
 her. 
 
 " Roy was feeling perfectly annoyed, father," she 
 said. " He was thinking you were not pleased with 
 him for a son-in-law." 
 
 " I am not. The lad has some discernment, I 
 see." 
 
 " You are not so kind as you should be, father. 
 You are wanting me to marry that wee minister, with 
 his scented hair, and his white hands, and his hopes 
 of a Glasgow pulpit. I don't want him, and it is 
 not fair, and not kind to force on me a husband I 
 can neither love nor respect." 
 
 " My lass ! It is just as unfair, and just as unkind, 
 to force on me a son-in-law that I can neither like 
 nor respect. The laws of the household are equal 
 laws. There is not one law for the parent and an- 
 other law for the child. But I know that love is a
 
 Annie's Engagement 33 
 
 clamoring selfishness, and that it will put on any dis- 
 guise to get its own ends. Go to your bed, Annie 
 Brodick, and rest and bethink yourself. You have 
 suffered a temporary collapse o' reason. You will 
 hold the balance truer in the morning. God be 
 with you ! " 
 
 And Annie could not go away without returning 
 the blessing, nor yet say it, and keep her anger. So 
 they parted as usual with a smile and a handgrip 
 and love has always invincible hope. 
 
 " Father is a bit disappointed," Annie said to her- 
 self, " but he'll get over it, and then he'll be just. 
 Yes, he'll be just, whatever comes, he'll be just. That 
 is all I am wanting, for when he knows Roy better, 
 he will be liking him better. And I'm fairly blessed 
 with my lad! Oh what a wonderful thing is love! 
 I can pray for the whole world to-night. Love works 
 miracles. It has given a new meaning to my life, 
 and oh, Roy! my dear one! I hope that you are 
 as happy this night as I am."
 
 CHAPTER THREE 
 MRS. LOCHRIGG'S OPINIONS 
 
 HAPPY as Annie had declared herself to be, she rose 
 in the morning with a certain depression and anxiety. 
 For all changes to the thoughtful heart must have an 
 air of melancholy; what we have to leave behind 
 is part of ourselves; we are, in a measure, dying to 
 the life we are quitting; and must do so, before we 
 can enter fully and cheerfully on the life we are go- 
 ing to. And although she did not tell herself these 
 things, she felt them. Roy had talked to her with 
 passionate and loving eloquence of their own home, 
 and her heart was turning to it so much so that 
 the home she was to leave had already lost some- 
 thing of its tender charm. For as she went about 
 her household duties, she was dreaming of the pretty 
 little floor Roy was to prepare for her in the great 
 city of Glasgow; and of the life of perfect bliss they 
 were to share in it; consequently her present life was 
 the poorer for this projection of her best self con- 
 tinually into the future. 
 
 Still affairs went on in the Brodiclt cottage with 
 
 34
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 35 
 
 their usual peace and regularity, and the Deacon was 
 not at once sensitive to his loss. Indeed he was far 
 more sensitive to the annoyance which the brag and 
 pride of his future son-in-law caused him; for Roy 
 had won the handsomest and richest girl in the neigh- 
 borhood, and he was not able to bear his success 
 modestly. On the night of his betrothal he went 
 straight from Annie's home to the house of his aunt, 
 Mistress Sarah Lochrigg, for he could not rest until 
 he told her the news. 
 
 Now Sarah Lochrigg was in her way as pro- 
 nounced a character as Robert Brodick, and possessed 
 almost as much influence in the small community. 
 She was the only mother her nephews knew, and her 
 pride in both boys was quite maternal in character. 
 Although fifty years of age she was still handsome in 
 a large way with fine black hair, and bright black 
 eyes, a vivid color, a tall erect figure, and a most 
 authoritative voice and manner. For she had sailed 
 some years with her husband, and could command 
 his ship as well as any officer in it. 
 
 But when her sister died, leaving two infant sons, 
 she gave up her sea life and devoted herself to the 
 children. Before they were half grown the Captain 
 retired, built the roomy house overlooking the sea 
 in which she lived, and for a few years enjoyed the
 
 36 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 quiet and repose he had well earned. Then he went 
 solemnly and cheerfully on his last long voyage, and 
 at the date of this story Sarah Lochrigg was a widow 
 of ample means, for her station, and continually add- 
 ing to her " dry siller " the profits of letting her 
 spare rooms in the summer to " well-to-do Glasgow 
 bodies " seeking health and rest in the life-giving at- 
 mosphere of beautiful Arran. 
 
 Her nephew Will lived with her, but Roy, being 
 second officer on The Lady Mary, a steamer plying 
 between Glasgow and Lamlash, lived in officers' 
 quarters on the boat; or else in some room in the city 
 convenient to the requirements of his duty. Now 
 Roy knew his aunt's movements almost to an hour, 
 for they were arranged and set beyond ordinary in- 
 terference, and therefore he was certain at this par- 
 ticular date she was in the height and fever of her 
 Spring cleaning. He knew also, that to Mistress 
 Lochrigg this was an event of the greatest import- 
 ance ; and it was his usual policy to be busy enough on 
 The Lady Mary to excuse all interference in his 
 aunt's affairs. It was Will who at this time gave 
 her such help as she would permit any " man-body " 
 to render; yet she generally bemoaned Will's best 
 efforts as " miserable make-shifts, which she par- 
 fectly thought scorn of," and which could only be
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 37 
 
 tolerated, because certain work was " over weighty 
 for a woman on the wrong side of fifty, even though 
 she was a very Judith in fortitude." 
 
 Yet, knowing all the circumstances and environ- 
 ments of Lochrigg House at that date, Roy went 
 there, and that with a sense and air of triumph quite 
 beyond his control. There was a light in the kitchen, 
 and he lifted the latch and went in. 
 
 " Good-evening, Aunt 1 " he said cheerily. 
 
 " Good-night, you mean. It will chap eleven 
 o'clock before long." 
 
 "Is it that late?" 
 
 " Lift your eyes, you can see for yoursel'." 
 
 " I see that you are very busy." 
 
 " Busy ! I'm worn out, and done for. It has been 
 just a weary hurry-push for the last week. Will has 
 done his best, but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " The natural-born incapacity o' men-folk. They 
 have neither sense nor mense about a house. They 
 can lift a heavy bit o' furnishing, but they haven't 
 an idea about the cleaning and polishing o* it. And 
 as for setting it down where it properly belongs, they 
 would be as likely to put the kitchen things in the 
 bedrooms, and the bedrooms' things in the parlor, 
 as in their rightful, ordained places."
 
 38 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " I wish I had time to help you, Aunt." 
 
 " You help me I That would be a story. You can 
 neither help, nor hinder." 
 
 " I am glad I can't hinder you, for I want to tell 
 you something very interesting. Can you listen to 
 me?" 
 
 " Ay, I can if you are in earnest. I'm not car- 
 ing for * maybe's ' to-night." 
 
 " It is a crowned truth. I came here purposeful 
 to tell you a most important, and happy thing." 
 
 " Then it is somewhat about yoursel'. If it is in 
 the ' importants ' it is concerning Royden Morrison. 
 I count that certain." 
 
 " I've won Annie Brodick for my wife. What 
 do you think o' that? The bonniest lass in Arran! 
 As good as gold I With land and siller at her back ! 
 And for all a very lily o' the Kirk, and as religious 
 as if she was born and bred for a D.D. I know I'm 
 little worthy o' her, but she'll be a sort o' guardian 
 angel to me." 
 
 " She'll be your master. She is one o' them New- 
 Women kind, I hear tell. I thought she was to marry 
 the Minister. Goodness knows he's daft about her. 
 And he has been educating her in all sorts o' new- 
 fangled ideas." 
 
 " She has thrown over the Minister, and taken my-
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 39 
 
 self. And I'm not afraid o' the New- Woman. In 
 fact, I rather like her." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if you did. Why not? She 
 is just an amusement and every sensible body kens, 
 there is usually a specimen o' the Auld Woman un- 
 der every New- Woman. It only takes a bairn an 
 hour-old baby will do to give the auld woman a 
 final supremacy o'er the new one. New Women in- 
 deed! Such unbelievable nonsense! We are not re- 
 quiring them. What we are needing and that at 
 extremities for is New Men. The men o' this gen- 
 eration are poor, feckless creatures." 
 
 "Are you not pleased with my choice, Aunt? I 
 was sure you would be delighted." 
 
 " Well, Roy, I have not made up my mind yet 
 about Annie Brodick. She is a woman whose con- 
 versation is of the * yes ' and * no' kind, and purely 
 positive in all things. She'll shape your life for you, 
 and your work, and your clothes, and your words, 
 yes, the thoughts o' .your heart. Clay in the potter's 
 hand will be independent, compared with yourself in 
 the hands o' Annie Brodick. Did you speak to her 
 father?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 " Next to nothing. He is a jealous body about his
 
 40 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 daughter, and he is worrying Annie to marry the 
 Minister. Annie prefers me, and we are going to be 
 very happy, Aunt, no doubt o' that. Don't you 
 think so ? " 
 
 " If your ways o' sinning, and her ways o* sinning 
 are the same, you will maybe sort together well 
 enough; but if they are different, she'll soon count 
 you a fool and let you know it. Now I ask you to 
 remember, that Annie Brodick is a thought miserly 
 about money and you, you are nothing but a was- 
 tra and a spendthrift ! I wish the Deacon had signi- 
 fied his intentions about Annie's tocher. What will 
 he give her? What did he say on that subject?" 
 
 " I did not name the subject. He had been at a 
 Kirk session, and was not in a suitable temper." 
 
 " You ought to have named it. And what for was 
 there a Kirk meeting? I never heard tell o' the 
 intent." 
 
 " YouVe been that throng, you have doubtless 
 missed the notice. The Minister wants an organ." 
 
 " Organ ! Then they would require to take away 
 the Precentor's desk, and that might be displeasing to 
 the Almighty, as well as to the auld folks. Me, and 
 the like o' me, are used to the Precentor. I couldn't 
 sing my psalms without him." 
 
 "Annie says, the organ is unnecessary; the choir 
 is very good, particularly good."
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 41' 
 
 "Sure! Annie leads the choir. For my part, I 
 think there is too much singing, and too little preach- 
 ing. Mr. Saunders has given us short weights in doc- 
 trine lately. The elders are all noticing that and 
 not liking it. But if you have nothing to talk about 
 but the Kirk and Annie Brodick, I am beyond carry- 
 ing on such a conversation. I am a weary woman. 
 I would not wonder if I am a sick woman. I feel like 
 it." 
 
 " You are bone tired, Aunt. That is all. Let me 
 make you a good, hot glass of whiskey, and go to 
 your bed. In the morning you will be fit as a trivet 
 for any work." 
 
 " How daur you ? " 
 
 " As medicine, Aunt. I was not meaning " 
 
 " How daur you mention the sinful stuff to me, Roy 
 Morrison ? " 
 
 " It was just an advice." 
 
 " That will cost you more than you reckon on. 
 Me! Sarah Lochrigg, a member o' the Women's 
 Temperance Union ! A speaker in the same ! to take 
 a glass o' hot, strong whiskey, because I'm a bit 
 weary. It is most impertinent of you, Roy Morri- 
 son, to propose the like to me. If you had any glim- 
 mering sense o' my responsibility, and influence, or 
 I may say o' the power o' my eloquence, you would 
 have been present at our last week's meeting, when
 
 142 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "I was 'suffering very much, father." 
 
 " But you might have called up the lass if you 
 were not able to put things as they ought to be." 
 
 " Father, I had all I could do to reach my room." 
 
 "Can I get you anything?" 
 
 " I have all I want, father. I know well what to 
 do when I am in trouble of any kind." 
 
 "Weel, if you get no better, call me, and I'll 
 go for the medical man; though Doctor McFarlane 
 is fearsome angry if he is called at night and 
 charging for it, too." 
 
 " I'm not requiring McFarlane. I'll do better 
 wanting him. Just leave me to myself, father. I'll 
 be fit enough by morning." 
 
 " God help and bless you, Annie ! " 
 
 He went away with the blessing on his lips, and 
 then returned to the house-place, and began to look 
 around for his usual bread and cheese and glass of 
 milk. Annie had forgotten them. " It is easy to 
 say who has been here," he muttered. " Only Roy 
 Morrison could make her forget me, and it is most 
 humiliating to be put o' mind for the like o' that 
 ne'er-do-well. And if I am any judge o' women- 
 folk, there has been a quarrel between him and 
 Annie and the poor lass is heart and soul sick. 
 That is the way o 1 this business. I am seeing it
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 143 
 
 all clearly, ay, and feeling it likewise a month or 
 two on tlie treadmill would be a good thing for the 
 lazy, lying scoundrel. God forgive me! I'm mak- 
 ing myself jury and judge baith. Keep your castle, 
 Robert Brodick! There's an enemy at your gates.'* 
 
 These sentiments, mingled with verses of warn- 
 ing and encouragement, disciplined the angry father 
 until he fell asleep under their influence, and his 
 soul went to that lowest chamber of being in which 
 there is always a romance and a mystery the won- 
 derful mystery of dreams the unfolding and the 
 enlightenment of which cannot come in any other 
 way, because for it, words however wise would 
 be impotent things. 
 
 So the man slept, while his nobler part was in the 
 School of Dreams, and the woman sat tearless and 
 dumb with hands clasped upon her knees. There 
 was no thought of sleep in Annie's eyes, they were 
 fixed and wide open, and without the shadow of 
 tears. She was not a girl ready to weep. She hardly 
 remembered any occasion when she had done so. 
 A kind of Spartan self-control had been the law of 
 her childhood, and even at this bitter hour she sought 
 not the relief of tears. Neither did the oppression 
 on her heart drive her into restlessness and move- 
 ment; she could not, as many do, walk with sorrow
 
 44 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 up ? I am thinking too, about your brother Will. He 
 loves the girl, that you have taken from him." 
 
 "Annie would never have looked at Will for a 
 husband." 
 
 " I would not say, but what she is likely to do 
 
 worse." 
 
 " If you are going to begin about Will, it is time 
 I went." 
 
 " I was hearing this afternoon a queer story about 
 Will's boat, it is too late to take up the subject now. 
 Come to-morrow and clear yourself." 
 
 " I will " and then he went to her side, and 
 looked down into her eyes, and said " how black and 
 bonnie they were, and how full of love," and she 
 shook her head, and then smilingly declared " I 
 have not another minute to spare for such a fleeching, 
 flattering lad," and Roy kissed her and asked, " Won't 
 you bid me good-night, Aunt?" and she answered 
 with a grave tenderness " God be with you, Roy, 
 and good-night, my dear lad." 
 
 As soon as the door was shut behind him, she rose 
 and locked it, and lit her night lamp. Then lifting 
 the black tea pot, she drank a cup full from it, wit;h 
 an air at once defensive and determined. 
 
 " Thank God for a cup of good tea I " she said, 
 and then as she undressed herself, she audibly re-
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 45 
 
 fleeted " it is the curse of women that when they 
 have to choose between two ways, or two things, or 
 two persons, they are sure to choose the one worst 
 for them. Poor Will! the girl must be a born 
 idiot but a bad husband, of some kind or other, is 
 doubtless the discipline best for most women. Them 
 above know Poor Will, he fairly worships her! 
 I wonder if Roy loves the lass or her tocher or if 
 he is simply set on getting ahead of his brother? " 
 
 At first it appeared impossible to doubt Roy's love 
 for his affianced bride. A man so enamored, so 
 transported with love, no one had ever seen before; 
 and the married men and their wives shook their 
 heads at his noisy happiness, and predicted that such 
 hot love would soon be cold. It certainly soon be- 
 came subject to moods, which troubled Annie's na- 
 ture to its depths. For as the young man grew 
 accustomed to his good fortune, he began to find 
 flaws in it. For instance, the Deacon was a standing 
 grievance. He generally felt his presence to be a 
 wrong to Annie and himself. It was true, that the 
 father was only sitting on his own hearthstone, but 
 Roy wished him far away. He said " The auld man 
 had no consideration for other folk"; and of course, 
 if the nights were chill or wet, the offense was aggra- 
 vated. " There is no pleasing your father, 5 ' he said
 
 46 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 to Annie, and Annie though understanding and 
 excusing her father was anxious and unhappy at 
 the want of harmony between him and her lover. 
 
 For Roy could not make Brodick laugh at his 
 funny stories, or take the slightest interest in his 
 mimicries, or comical recitations; and he wondered 
 at his daughter's toleration of this side of her lover's 
 character. In the first place, laughter was not natural 
 to Brodick, he took life too seriously to make sport 
 out of it. In the second place, he had that contempt 
 for mimicry and punning, which all but the most 
 elemental people feel; and he was sure Annie's fine 
 nature and intellect was subjected to deterioration in 
 such companionship. There was no obvious quarrel, 
 but no disagreement is so intolerable as that divided 
 from union by only a semi-tone. It is a far deeper 
 and more intense dislike, than one which explains 
 itself in a vigorous dispute, or contradiction. 
 
 To be constantly between these two opposite na- 
 tures, and made to feel the fret of both, was not a 
 good discipline in any form for Annie. She was 
 nervous and fearful when her father and lover were 
 together. Her father's house had lost all its old 
 placid, cheerful charm; and she longed for her own 
 home. Brodick divined this feeling, and it hurt him 
 like a festering wound. But Roy, cosy and cocky in
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 47 
 
 his own good opinion, failed entirely to see that his 
 cracks and quips, and riddles and poetical recitations, 
 made the Deacon uncomfortable, not to say resentful. 
 Even Annie's cool sympathy, and dubious remarks 
 were ineffectual, to curb the young man's exhibitions 
 of supposed cleverness. 
 
 " Father is not liking your stories and songs, Roy," 
 said Annie to her lover, one night, when his efforts 
 to impress or amuse the Deacon had been a signal 
 failure. 
 
 " I would like to know what would please him, 
 Annie," was the answer. " I am sure, the best o' 
 good company are always delighted with my stories, 
 and the like. Captain Laird himself was saying 
 often, that I was the life o' the boat, and I can tell 
 you, there's few men as welcome in a smoking room 
 as Roy Morrison." 
 
 " My father is a kirk man, not a smoking-room 
 man. There is a difference, Roy. But if you really 
 want to please him, you will bring forward, plain 
 and honest, the story of the painting out o' our name 
 on your brother's boat. You have never once given 
 him the denial he is expecting and has a right to." 
 
 " He has no more right to ask a denial from me, 
 than from any other man in the village." 
 
 11 He has. I'm telling you, father is rightly look-
 
 48 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 ing for your discussion and denial of that black 
 business. He thinks your daffing and laughing and 
 joking is just a put-by of what you ought to be 
 telling him." 
 
 " Dod! The man has taken a scunner at me. He 
 walks by me as if I was dirt under his feet. Thank 
 goodness! we will be having our own home soon. 
 Why isn't he speaking to me about it? That is 
 what I want to know." 
 
 " Because it is your place to speak to him, and I 
 say plainly, Roy, I have long been expecting you 
 would do so." 
 
 Whether it was Roy's place or not, the Deacon 
 would have spoken, if he had felt any surety that a 
 home for his daughter and Roy Morrison would ever 
 be required. The subject was frequently in his mind, 
 but all his thoughts and plans in that direction were 
 brought to a standstill by an inner dissent not to be 
 gainsaid. " Not yet; not yet! " said his soul within 
 him, and he could not disobey the admonition of a 
 Power, that had never deceived or betrayed him. 
 He was to wait, and he was willing to wait, for sooner 
 or later, he was sure Annie's clear, truthful nature 
 would detect the falseness of the man she had chosen 
 and then Robert Brodick knew well, it would be 
 simply impossible for her to marry him.
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg's Opinions 49 
 
 But for three months Roy kept his power and po- 
 sition intact. Annie believed in him with all her soul, 
 and loved him with the intense affection of a self- 
 restrained truthful woman. No one could doubt her 
 affection, it had the charm of absolute sincerity and 
 of truthfulness without a flaw. But such an atmos- 
 phere was naturally too tiresome an endeavor for a 
 man mingled of exactly diverse elements, and grad- 
 ually Annie was aware of some change too slight 
 for analysis, too elusive to complain of, but 
 
 " Ah ! the little more, and how much of it is ; 
 And the little less, and what worlds away ! " 
 
 The change was the little less, and it made Annie's 
 heart quake as she looked into the future; for if a 
 man is not noble and unselfish when he is in love, 
 he never will be so, either in this life or the next; 
 and Annie could neither disguise, nor complain away, 
 many a small occurrence which no noble or unselfish 
 man would have been guilty of. Every incident of 
 this kind made a distinct impression on her, but she 
 told herself that no one was perfect, and that when 
 she was his wife, and had him always in her care, 
 he would come to see things in the light of her eyes, 
 and the wisdom of her judgment. Alas! Alas! a 
 woman in love tells many a lie to herself, and that
 
 O The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 old, old heartache of the world showed Annie no 
 favor he had already begun to give her misgivings 
 hard to control, that mixed themselves with her day's 
 duties, and crossed the hours of her sleep and 
 dreams 
 
 " For Oh, how easily things go wrong, 
 A sigh, a kiss, or a frown too long, 
 And there follows a mist and a weeping rain, 
 And life is never the same again I "
 
 CHAPTER FOUR 
 
 THE DEACON IS REPROVED 
 
 As time went on the incident of the painted-out 
 name on Will Morrison's boat appeared to be for- 
 gotten. Many reasons put it out of general discus- 
 sion the Summer season opened in less than a month 
 after the event, and every one was fully occupied 
 with duties pertaining to the arrival of a large num- 
 ber of strangers, who had to be accommodated, for 
 the most part, in the homes of the resident popu- 
 lation. Any woman walking through the little town 
 would have known that such an universal display of 
 shining windows, and snowy lace curtains, and pipe- 
 clayed doorsteps, and trim lawns and flower gardens 
 presupposed a month's steady scrubbing and polish- 
 ing. And when men have the discomfort of tossed-up 
 homes, and uncertain meals, and women live with 
 bare arms, and kilted petticoats, neither of them are 
 much inclined to discuss their neighbors, or any event 
 concerning them, unless it also concerned the great 
 event of the year, the number and quality of boarders 
 at every house. 
 
 But from the first, two of the most important 
 
 51
 
 52 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 people in the town had set their faces against any 
 conversation about the Morrison affair, and to carry 
 it on in opposition to their wishes, contained possi- 
 bilities few cared to meet. The Minister pointedly 
 ignored the subject. He had no opinion to give the 
 public, in fact, the stricter sort thought his indiffer- 
 ence almost sinful. For when pinned down by the 
 senior Elder with a direct question, he smiled rather 
 scornfully and " thought it likely the whole matter 
 was just a foolish prank of mischievous boys, out 
 for what they considered fun." 
 
 No one, however, gave him credit for this peace- 
 making suggestion. All were sure he hated the 
 subject, because he hated to hear Annie Brodick's 
 name in open, and not very creditable, conversation. 
 
 " He is far gone in love with the lass," said Elder 
 Ruthven, " and the Lord knows we have all been in 
 that state oursel's at some time or other and I am 
 not wondering at him trying to keep Annie Brodick's 
 name out o' every dirty mouth." 
 
 " Ay, but the sin, the sin, Elder! I am thinking 
 the Minister ought to have brought forward the 
 sinfulness o' the deed even in the pulpit. Yes, yes, 
 even in the pulpit." 
 
 " Maybe it was more mischief than sin, MacFar- 
 lane."
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 53 
 
 "It wasn't a right thing to do, Ruthven; and 
 what is not right, is simply wrong. There are no 
 half-sins, to my thinking." 
 
 " You are extraordinar strict in your principles, 
 MacFarlane. I am not denying that you are right. 
 Weel, weel, the truth is sure to tell itself some day, 
 some way, and it is good sense to wait for it. I'll 
 be going, friends. Od! it is wonderful, the way time 
 flies in good company." 
 
 But even more effectual than the Minister's disap- 
 proval, was the more outspoken anger of Mistress 
 Lochrigg at least in the social view of the case. 
 It was Mistress Lochrigg who had supplied the 
 Minister with that pawky plan of shifting the blame 
 from some ill-willed person to the more difficult 
 culprit, a lot of mischievous boys out for what they 
 considered fun. She knew that this shifting of re- 
 sponsibility from one to many, took away from the 
 offense all the piquant flavor of personality. Blame 
 divided is not interesting; even a cat would prefer 
 the worrying of one mouse to the distracting chase 
 of half-a-dozen. 
 
 This diversion, and dissipation of interest, was a 
 clever move, and it was supplemented by words 
 which, coming from Sarah Lochrigg, were not to be 
 misunderstood. For the day after the outrage had
 
 54 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 been discovered, she came across a group of women in 
 the grocery store discussing it. Their eager voices, 
 interruptions, and explanations, and the sudden con- 
 scious silence which followed her entrance, made her 
 sure of it. 
 
 " You may weel shut your mouths, the whole lot o' 
 you," she said. Her face was white, her voice low 
 and -even, but its tones were as if she had dipped 
 every word in aqua f ortis. And her eyes ! Nothing 
 but absolute righteousness could have borne them un- 
 flinchingly. She was the incarnation of calm, con- 
 temptuous anger. " If one of you," she continued, 
 " but wag your tongue against me, or mine, I'll have 
 a price set on every ill word, and I'll make you pay 
 it, in siller or prison labor, every bawbee of it." 
 
 "The Ladies, Mrs. Lochrigg " interrupted the 
 grocer. 
 
 " The Ladies, Mr. Hall, may talk about their 
 ladyships; they are free o' themselves but 'they 
 must leave my lads alone; and they might do the 
 will o' God, and look a little better after their own." 
 Then facing " the Ladies " " Mattie Caird, your 
 Tommy was drunk last Sabbath, and made a disgrace 
 of himself in the very boundaries o' the kirk. Jenny 
 Black, your Ringan was turned awa' from the Castle 
 last Monday morn you ken what for."
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 55 
 
 "What for? What for, Mistress Lochrigg? I 
 daur you to say what for." 
 
 " Do you think I'll say the word, you huzzy ? You 
 ken fine what for. Go home and look after your 
 house and I would wash the floor o' it, now and 
 again, if I was you." 
 
 " I'll just tell you, Mistress Lochrigg " 
 
 " You will tell me nothing nothing at all. If I 
 get one word from you, I will turn you out o' your 
 dirty house, and roup the things in it, for the sum 
 o' rent you are owing me." Then facing the whole 
 company she said, with a quietness almost fright- 
 some " If I hear tell of any one o' you, or of any 
 other man or woman, speaking of my lads, or their 
 boats, or of aught they say, or do, I will make strict 
 inquiry about the same. You ken what Sarah Loch- 
 rigg means by thae few words Sandy Brock, you 
 will send to my house before the clock chaps eleven 
 three pounds o' powdered butter, and a Yorkshire 
 ham weighing sixteen pounds, or thereabouts, and a 
 kippered salmon, and three bunches o' asparagus, and 
 a peck o' peas fresh gathered, see to that and 
 four boxes o' strawberries " 
 
 " I'm sorry, Mistress Lochrigg, but the berries 
 I cannot " 
 
 " You can, and you will send them, Sandy. They
 
 56 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 are important, and I am knowing you got twelve 
 baskets from the Castle not two hours ago. So 
 you'll send the full order, Sir; and I will be much 
 obliged. . . . Good-morning, Ladies 1 " and 
 with a haughty indifference, to which her large 
 beauty gave dignity and meaning, she left the Ladies 
 to continue their conversation, if they wished to. 
 
 But the grocer was by this time out of the mood 
 for gossip. He gave each what they wanted without 
 an unnecessary word, and when the last customer 
 had disappeared, he went to his wife, and after de- 
 scribing Mistress Lochrigg's temper as " enough to 
 fright the deil " he bade her " know nothing, and say 
 nothing, and look nothing anent thae weary Morrison 
 lads. If you do," he added, " my lady will send us 
 to the right about, and her yearly bill is of some 
 consequence. Dod! but she's the domineering 
 
 woman 1 " 
 
 " Ay, Sandy," answered Mrs. Brock, " you canna 
 thwart her in any particular. You be to let her set 
 up the golden image o' her special orders. The 
 woman would fly in the very face o' Providence, if 
 Providence stood in her way. She would that! " 
 
 It will be seen, then, that under such repressive 
 circumstances Brodick was likely to find the " sifting 
 of the facts " which he had promised Annie and
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 57 
 
 himself, a rather difficult undertaking. But he was 
 not a man to be daunted by difficulties of any kind, 
 and he also possessed that invincible patience which 
 is in itself a surety of success. 
 
 " Sooner or later," he constantly reminded him- 
 self, " sooner or later, the right bowl comes to the 
 hand open and ready for it." 
 
 So he went his usual silent, kindly way, and no one 
 suspected that his eyes and ears were both attent 
 for any thread which would unravel the mystery. 
 Nor was he actuated by his personal dislike of Roy, 
 a personal dislike would not have moved him. It 
 would have been regarded as a temptation, and in 
 its finality been put irrevocably behind him. He 
 knew this, because now that anger was past and rea- 
 son in control, he shrank from injuring Roy publicly. 
 He wanted only Roy's confession to Annie. For in 
 his soul he believed the young man guilty, and how 
 could he trust his daughter with a husband capable 
 of such a contemptible act, and of the uncountable 
 lies with which he had tried to conceal it. 
 
 But of this intended Nemesis there was no evi- 
 dence. Even Annie thought her father had forgotten 
 the insult, and with a woman's unreason she often 
 said some scornful words to her own heart about 
 his indifference to the honor of the name of Brodick,
 
 58 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 and then again, she resented angrily any mention of 
 the circumstance, or any proposed investigation of it. 
 For deep down in her inmost nature deeper than 
 she dared to look there was a darkness, and in the 
 darkness a doubt, and the doubt fluttered eagerly to 
 name itself. She felt the trembling in her breast, 
 made by the invisible suspicion, and she was deter- 
 mined neither to face, nor to interrogate it. For at 
 this time, she was constantly telling herself, how 
 much nobler, both in words and deeds, Roy had lately 
 been. Thus she was nursing a plea for Roy, and 
 justifying her own attitude. However, Annie had 
 much of her father's temperament, she could keep 
 silence, and she could keep her own secrets, a won- 
 derful thing for a woman to do. 
 
 Thus, this little troubling under-current was not 
 permitted to disturb the placid stream of Summer 
 life in the lovely town. The days went by in a Mid- 
 summer Dream of love and content. The grey old 
 house with its far-back look and antique homeliness 
 was brightened by a sunshine that went to hearts of 
 men, and the root of every tree and flower, and green 
 thing. There were boxes of mignonette in every 
 window, and a lavender bed along the southern 
 border of the garden. Roses sweetened June, and 
 the virgin lilies clad in the lawn of naked light
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 59 
 
 filled the silent spaces of the Summer nights with 
 radiance and perfume. The ancient wall was covered 
 with vines, and the old, old well from which men 
 had drunk for five hundred years was green with 
 moss, and shaded by nodding ferns, and sweet with 
 gadding violets. 
 
 The sound of running water was -everywhere. The 
 bees murmured among the flowers, or drowsed on 
 the slopes; the nightingales and throstles sang in the 
 thick woods, and the doves ricketty-cooed on the 
 barn roofs. And if you went up the hills, there were 
 the solemn shades of the pine woods, and the golden 
 blaze of the broom, and wonderful little dells, so 
 green and cool, you could not wonder if told they 
 were resting places for angels. And the great sea 
 circled the land, and hills rose beyond hills from blue 
 to grey, till they were faint and lost in the misty 
 Highland sky. 
 
 In such a Summer land it was easy to believe all 
 Love's sweetest tales, and Annie took whatever Roy 
 said into her heart, and nursed his words there to 
 songs and dreams of future happiness. And in this 
 life of pleasant illusions she grew so lovely, that her 
 father wondered at the change, and felt every day 
 more bitterly the apparent wastrie of her womanly 
 gifts and charms.
 
 60 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " But it isn't the hour to speak yet," he mused, 
 " though God knows, it is hard for me to thole Roy 
 Morrison's ways. If he was Lord John.o' the High- 
 lands, he couldn't put on more airs. A stranger 
 would be sure that he owned not only my Annie, but 
 my house and land, and all he could cast his glower- 
 ing black eyes over. As for mysel', I am out of all 
 consideration, ay, am I ! wi' both o' them. God 
 help me to keep a still mouth, and my hands down 
 at my side. There's none else able for the job." 
 
 Perhaps the old should remember that they too 
 have been in Arcadia, and should greet the young 
 as they pass into the Enchanted Land with a smile 
 of sympathy, make excuses for unwonted selfishness, 
 and pardon humiliating neglect. Many do so. Many 
 more have never seen Arcadia, even from the De- 
 lectable Mountains. Others have tarried there so 
 short a time, that its memory comes back to them 
 as " only a dream." Perhaps Robert Brodick was 
 among the latter class, for if he had ever been in 
 Arcadia, he had forgotten. His love for his wife 
 had been of the quality of his nature, strong and 
 sincere. He had said to her, " Grace Scott, I love 
 you, and I would like with all my heart to make you 
 my wife." And Grace had answered, " Weel, Robert, 
 I might do worse than yourseF. I'm willing enough
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 61 
 
 to marry you." Then the date had been set, and the 
 wedding ring fit, and they had stood up before the 
 Minister. That was all. So to Brodick's apprehen- 
 sion, the enthusiasms of Roy, and the dreamy wistful- 
 ness of his hitherto all-there daughter, were symptoms 
 of a foolish love sickness sensible people ought to 
 be ashamed to acknowledge. 
 
 One fine morning in June, Brodick resolved to go 
 to a little tarn he knew, and get a few trout. He 
 really longed for the peace of the lonely places, and 
 the fellowship of the hills ; for it is in the widerness 
 and not in contact with men that the soul recalls 
 all its straying energies, and renews its strength. So 
 he said to Annie, " I'll away to the Tarrant Tarn, 
 and spend a few hours wi' the trout to-day, Annie. 
 Maybe I'll bring you a few pounders home wi' me, 
 
 " ' For where the pools are bright and deep, 
 There the grey trout lies asleep.' " 
 
 He quoted the lines quite naturally, they were part 
 of his usual preparation for a day's fishing. And it 
 was quite in course that Annie should reply, 
 
 " ' But when the wind is from the north, 
 The wily fisher goes not forth.' 
 
 So you had best question the wind, father." 
 Then Brodick went to the open door and looked
 
 62 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 cast and west and north and south for a sign of the 
 wind's mood. " I'll trust the wind to-day," he said. 
 " There may be a plump of rain in the afternoon, 
 but it will get o'er by in half-an-hour." He ate his 
 breakfast in a kind of happy hurry, and then trudged 
 off to the mountains with his rod, a good supply of 
 flies, red spinners, zulus, etc., and a can of cold tea, 
 and some buttered scones for his lunch. He was 
 really going for solitude, not for trout, so we will 
 not intrude upon a day which he found to be full of 
 the presence of God. A few fish, however, rewarded 
 his half-hearted efforts, for when he reached the tarn 
 there was a good ripple on the water, and the day 
 was cloudy, but the wind quickly veered to the north, 
 and he smiled at his memory of the old saying, and 
 allowed " it was true enough to guide those who 
 wanted the truth." 
 
 As soon as the sun was visibly westering he turned 
 home, full of the spirit of the hills, and lonely, un- 
 planted places. His broad calm face was shining 
 with inward peace, his strong, almost joyful steps 
 indicated a soul at one with some Presence diviner 
 than himself; but he soon descended to that level 
 whereon humanity dwells, and became aware of the 
 feverish contact of mortal beings. For passing a 
 small cottage on his way home, he saw Mistress
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 63 
 
 Lochrigg coming out of it. Curiosity was at once 
 to the fore; he began to speculate as to her purpose 
 in being there, and was not sorry when she waited 
 for his approach and said, 
 
 " Good-evening, Deacon Brodick. I am going 
 your 'way, if you will convoy me hame. I can see 
 the speculation in your face; why don't you speir 
 what for I was at Timothy Buchan's? " 
 
 " Well then, I am speiring now. What's wrong 
 with Tim Buchan?" 
 
 u Most everything. He has a fever typhoid or 
 I am much mistaken, and his wife has a bairn not 
 two weeks old, and the eldest girl is but eight years 
 old, and there are two or three sickly weans between 
 her and the new born. And the whole lot o' them 
 are worn to skin and bone wi' hunger, and care, or 
 pure pain itsel'. I heard tell o' their miserable con- 
 dition an hour ago, and I made haste to see what I 
 could do to help them." 
 
 * You are a good woman, Sarah. Wait for me a 
 wee. I'll do my share now, and it will be the wel- 
 com-er." Then back he went to the cottage and 
 entered it. A woman with a baby in her arms was 
 sitting beside an apparently dying man. " Jean 
 Buchan," he said, " put care outside your door. 
 Trust to God, and Robert Brodick. Make your
 
 64 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Timothy understand, if so be you can, that Robert 
 Brodick will stand for him and his family, until he 
 can do his day's work again." 
 
 He hardly heard the poor woman's cry of grati- 
 tude, he went so quickly from the cottage, but Sarah 
 was out of sight. "The silly, proud hizzy! she has 
 taken offense at my leaving her. Women are won- 
 derful queer creatures. She wanted me to help Tim 
 Buchan and yet " He shrugged his shoulders to 
 express something so complex, he felt it impossible 
 of explanation by any formula of words. But his 
 long, firm strides soon brought him to the side of the 
 huffy woman. 
 
 " I did what I know you wanted me to do, Sarah," 
 he said, " and I am thankful to you for putting me 
 in the way of such a good deed. Od, woman! I 
 wonder however you find the time to do all you do 
 baith inside and outside your ain house. It's simply 
 wonderful." 
 
 " I can find time, however throng I am, for a work 
 o' mercy; that is neither more nor less than serving 
 God before man." 
 
 " I know, Sarah, but you " 
 
 " I ken your fleeching way, Deacon, but it isn't of 
 mysel' I wanted to talk to you. It is about those dear 
 to both o' us. My house is now near by; will you
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 65 
 
 come in and have a cup o' tea with me, and we can 
 talk as we drink? I haviC some plain words for you, 
 and doubtless you will be ready and willing to give 
 me back what I send but over a cup o' tea, we are 
 not likely to say anything beyond good-will, or at 
 least, ordinar civility." 
 
 " There is nothing on earth could make me quarrel 
 with you, Sarah. It would be like quarrelling with 
 the dead. You and my wife were closer and dearer 
 than sisters. You made her dying bed easier for 
 more than a year, and when she flitted away, it was 
 out o' your arms she went. Do you think anything 
 you could say would make me forget what you did? 
 No, no, Sarah." 
 
 " Well, then, Robert, come your ways in, and we'll 
 have a reasonable talk o'er a cup o' Young Hyson 
 and you may give me half-a-dozen o' them wee 
 grey trout, and I'll make them a bonnie brown 
 in the frying pan. I am gey fond o' mountain 
 fish." 
 
 So the Deacon went in with his old friend, and 
 while she set the table, and buttered the hot scones, 
 and turned the grey fish to a golden brown, Robert 
 washed his hands and face, and taking a little comb 
 from his waistcoat pocket, combed out his thick 
 brown hair, carefully parting it on the right side, as
 
 66 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 his mother had taught him, because the right side o' 
 anything, was the lucky side. 
 
 " My goodness, Sarah! " he ejaculated, as he drew 
 in his chair to the table " it is a fine thing to go up 
 to the mountains, and come down with a domineering 
 hunger, and get a ravishing meal set for you by the 
 woman you're respecting above all others." 
 
 " Now, Robert, I'm not saying but what your com- 
 pliments are pleasant enough, but at the present 
 hour, I want you to talk business; so we'll let the 
 compliments go by, till they have their own hour. It 
 is my question first, and I am asking you plainly, why 
 you did not come and tell me about your Annie en- 
 gaging hersel' to my nephew Roy?" 
 
 " Sarah, why did you not come and tell me about 
 your nephew engaging himsel' to my Annie? " 
 
 " It was your place, Robert, to speak first." 
 
 "Nay, it was yours." 
 
 " Well, we won't argue that point. Are you 
 pleased with the contracting?" 
 
 No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I have never been able to make myself believe 
 in it. That is the 'why* of my silence." 
 
 " You are not wanting to believe in it." 
 
 " Perhaps if it had been Will "
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 67 
 
 44 Will 1 Will! Of course Will! Will is safe 
 and sure, and his wife may put by care like an old 
 dress she'll never need to wear again. There would 
 be little need of the 4 for better or worse ' promise, 
 if it was Will; but no doubt you are thinking a wife 
 might have her share o' heartaches wi' Roy Morri- 
 son." 
 
 " Exactly just so. Not only 4 might,' she could 
 count on them without a doubt." 
 
 44 Annie can make a man o' Roy. He has some 
 shortcomings now, I'm not denying the same, but 
 Annie could laugh away his bit follies, and strengthen 
 his heart." 
 
 44 Exactly, and break her ain heart, and weep her 
 life away in the doing o' it, Sarah. I am loving my 
 daughter Annie." 
 
 44 Weel, Robert, I must say you don't act like it. 
 You are a parfect penure, a very Nabal o' a father." 
 
 44 Sarah Lochrigg, what are you saying? Do you 
 remember who you are talking to?" 
 
 " I know well who I am talking to, and though 
 you be a Deacon in the Kirk, I will say it again." 
 
 44 You are not requiring to do anything o' the kind. 
 I'll not be likely to forget your words. But I wish 
 you would give me some proof of their truthful- 
 
 ness."
 
 68 THe Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " I'll do it. I want to do it. That is the why and 
 the wherefore of my asking you into my house pass 
 your cup, Deacon I see it is empty." 
 
 " It is the best tea I have had for a long while. I 
 wish I could have a few better words with it." 
 
 " You'll get the better ones after the ill ones. 
 The latter have to come first." 
 
 "Then give me them instanter. What miserly 
 things have I been doing to Annie? " 
 
 " Man Robert 1 Did you ever hear tell of a 
 father that had plenty o' lying siller, ye ken 
 letting his daughter make her wedding clothes out o 1 
 the garments left her by her dead mother? It is a 
 shame, Robert, a black shame." 
 
 "My God! I don't believe it. You are just 
 hurting me. I'm not understanding, Sarah." 
 
 " I know I I want to make you understand ! Roy 
 told me distinctly that you had never given Annie 
 one bawbee for her wedding clothes, and that she 
 was making her kirking dress out o' one of her 
 mother's old dresses, and he was supposing he would 
 be called on to buy the wedding dress itsel', because 
 Annie said she would never ask it from you, seeing 
 that you were so set against her marriage." 
 
 " Roy Morrison will never, never, be called upon 
 to buy Annie Brodick's wedding dress. I'll vow
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 69 
 
 that with crossed hands. He has not given her an 
 engagement ring yet." 
 
 " I am talking of the wedding garments. Well 
 you know if the village get hold of such a story, it 
 might come in your position-^-to be a Kirk in- 
 quiry." 
 
 "Sarah! Sarah I It is all a mistake." 
 
 " Maybe it is, maybe it is not. If Annie had been 
 going to marry the Minister, I think you would have 
 minded yourself of the necessary outfit. I'm pretty 
 sure you would." 
 
 ' You are a searching woman. Maybe I would. 
 But this fault, thanks to you, is not past mending. 
 I'll see to it this same night. I am thanking you, 
 also, for the plain words you have said to me; they 
 are dutiful; I'll attend to them." 
 
 " The wounds of a friend you know, Robert." 
 
 " I know. If I see my duty, I am neither dull 
 nor hesitating about the uptake o 1 it." 
 
 "Well, then, what about a home for the young 
 things? They be to have some place to lay their 
 heads." 
 
 " That is not my business. No man has a right 
 to marry till he has made a home for his wife." 
 
 " Roy has but a small salary." 
 
 " Yet he daured to come seeking Annie Brodiclc.
 
 70 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 I thought from that circumstance, he was paid well 
 enough to keep a wife in comfort. I'm fairly amazed 
 at the man's presumption." 
 
 " Deacon, you know well that Love will venture 
 in without asking whether he is welcome or not. 
 What will you do about furnishing a home, if I pay 
 the rent for a year? " 
 
 " Nothing. Nothing at all." 
 
 " In another year, Roy will maybe have a larger 
 salary, and then " 
 
 " Sarah, I cannot abide such words as ' maybe/ 
 ' perhaps,' and ' likely.' They are wicked, wasteful 
 guideposts to ruin of some kind or other. If Roy 
 really loved Annie, he would have been saving his 
 money to furnish a home for her. Anyway, Sarah, 
 I will not do it for him." 
 
 " Folks are expecting " 
 
 " Let them expect." 
 
 "There is another thing, Robert. If you do 
 nothing for Roy, it is as good as saying you have 
 no confidence in him. That will hurt the lad." 
 
 " I have no confidence in him. That is the truth." 
 
 " People may even say that you are believing that 
 silly report about Annie's name on Will's boat." 
 
 " Sarah, I am believing it. Don't cry, woman." 
 
 " Oh, Robert, how can you ? "
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 71 
 
 " It was hard to do, but I had that witness within 
 that never yet deceived me." 
 
 " And if you believe such a mean, cowardly thing 
 of the lad, however can you let him marry your 
 daughter?" 
 
 " I do not let him. I cannot let him, nor can I 
 hinder. Both God and men let many things happen 
 they don't will to happen far from it. Annie has 
 made up her mind, and her mind is as dour and stiff 
 as your own, or mine. Nobody but Roy himself can 
 prevent her marrying Roy." 
 
 " He will never prevent her. He loves her. How 
 could he prevent the marriage? It isna possible." 
 
 " One way only let Roy Morrison do a single 
 wrong that he cannot explain away that he cannot 
 sneak out of that he is obliged to confess and 
 Annie would " 
 
 " Forgive him." 
 
 " She would not. The girl is so compounded of 
 truth and honor and honesty, she could not forgive 
 him. These virtues are herself. Whoever betrayed 
 one of them, would be betraying her. To put him 
 away would be the plucking out o' the right eye, but 
 it would be plucked out. Forgive, ay, she might, 
 for Christ's sake, but she would bid him good-bye 
 forever, with the forgiving words on her lips. What
 
 72 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 for? Because she would have ceased to love him. I 
 know. I know Annie by myself." 
 
 " Then what are you going to do ? " As she asked 
 this question she laid another fish on the Deacon's 
 plate, and refilled his cup. " What are you going 
 to do about the whole matter? " 
 
 " I am going to give Annie fifty pounds to-night 
 for her clothes they will be hers anyway. Is that 
 enough ? " 
 
 " I would add twenty-five pounds for the wedding 
 dress." 
 
 " I will when the wedding is certain." 
 
 " Losh, man! You are an unbelieving creature." 
 
 "Is that all you wanted with me, Sarah?" 
 
 " At present." 
 
 "Then we will drop the subject. Do you know 
 that Mr. Saunders is leaving us on Friday?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " He is. There is a young man coming here, not 
 so very long out o* the Divinity classes. He'll being 
 knowing everything, of course." 
 
 "And where is Mr. Saunders going?" 
 
 41 To fill St. Mark's pulpit, Glasgo'. Think o' 
 that." 
 
 " I have more profitable thoughts. How did you 
 get this young Divinity lad for our Kirk?"
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 73 
 
 ** He has been working among the soldiers in 
 Edinburgh and he has made a grand record for 
 himself. I was hearing tell that our Duke no less 
 spoke to Elder Ruthven about him. The Duke said 
 he had heard him talking to the soldiers, till he had 
 their hearts in his hand." 
 
 "And what kin will he be to the Duke?" 
 
 " None." 
 
 "Then what for was the Duke trying to place 
 him?" 
 
 " Naturally, he wanted a good man in his own 
 town. Elder Ruthven went to Edinburgh, and heard 
 him preach, and at the long end got him to come 
 here for the season. He wasn't carin' to come." 
 
 "Why not? Were we not rich enough, or good 
 enough for him ? " 
 
 " He was feared we were too good too respect- 
 able. He is for looking after the sinners." 
 
 Mistress Lochrigg laughed scornfully. " With 
 such lads as my Roy is thought to be," she said, " and 
 with Glasgo' trippers, roaring full o* whiskey, and 
 Glasgo' boarders, trying to cheat you out o* every 
 bawbee not signed and sealed for, he'll find sinners 
 enough, I'll warrant, to keep him busy. What is the 
 name o' the man? " 
 
 " James Alexander Archibald Crieff."
 
 74 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Then he'll be a Hielandman? " 
 
 " More than likely. He's a born fighter all Hie- 
 landmen are that, but he is wanting spiritual battles, 
 and spiritual victories." 
 
 " I know them kind, Robert. The Salvation Army 
 crowd belong to them. I wouldn't wonder if the 
 names o' the Glasgow contingent was taken if nine- 
 tenths o' them were * Macs ' o' some clan or other." 
 
 "You are wrong there, Sarah. It was the Hie- 
 land host, led by Chalmers, that gave us the Free 
 Kirk, and sowed Free Kirks o'er the length and 
 breadth o' Scotland." 
 
 " He'll be for putting everything right in Arran, 
 and we will hae to thole his gushing condescensions. 
 He'll try to make us see that every one but himself 
 is grossly ignorant but he'll bear wi' us he'll bear 
 wi' us. And you can't reason wi' young men; they 
 move in the sublime circle o' their own parfec- 
 tions." 
 
 " I'll speak later, Sarah. Ruthven should have 
 remembered that we are not babes in the Word, but 
 men; and men who want an experienced teacher. 
 But good-night, Sarah. His blessing be with you. 
 I must haste me home. Annie will be wondering 
 what keeps me. Thank you, Sarah, for your kind-
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 75 
 
 " You are saying ' tfiank you ' now, Robert, but 
 I'm feared you will put my plain speaking down 
 against me, later on." 
 
 " You know I will not.' 
 
 " I am your true friend, Robert." 
 
 " You have just proved that, for any one who 
 makes a man do what he ought to do, and can do, 
 is the noblest of friends. I was nearly forgetting 
 Will. I have not seen him for a few days." 
 
 " The lad has a sore heartache." 
 
 "About Annie?" 
 
 " Ay, just about Annie." 
 
 "So you told him?" 
 
 "Not I. Roy told him the morning after the 
 words w'ere said. Roy was that set up he could not 
 keep quiet about his good fortune. I asked him to 
 let the news find Will; said anybody would be better 
 than himself, but he could not do as I counselled." 
 
 " It was like Roy. What did Will say? " 
 
 " For a few moments, not a word. He sat with 
 his eyes dropped glowering into his coffee cup. And 
 I could not find a word either. At last Will got to 
 his feet and said, * Roy, you have won the best and 
 sweetest girl in Arran. I hope you'll be good to 
 her. God bless you, both ! ' He has been a silent, 
 lonely man even since. Last Saturday he went to
 
 76 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Glisgow to speak to McBrine. He thought a long 
 ycyage would be best for him. Maybe he'll get 
 one, and Roy will be married when he comes back, 
 and when Annie is another man's wife, Will isn't the 
 scoundrel to give her an unlawful thought." 
 
 " And how is all going with yourself, Sarah? Are 
 you likely to have a good season? " 
 
 " Weel, Robert, I have only three rooms rented 
 yet for it's not every kind o' body that wins o'er 
 Sarah Lochrigg's doorstep but I had news to-day 
 of the tip-top o' the boarding gentry no less than 
 the famous Dr. Andrew Balmuto and his daughter. 
 I am thinking your Annie knows the young lady 
 that they went to the same school in Glasgow. Well 
 then, they are coming to-morrow." 
 
 " I wouldn't wonder if Annie knows baith father 
 and daughter. I have heard her speak the name, and 
 I think there was letters passing when Annie first 
 came home, but they have stopped this while back. 
 Girls' love isna like men's love. Of course excepts, 
 like my wife and yoursel', Sarah." 
 
 " Women fall in love, and then there's men folk, 
 and bairns, and this and that to do, or see about, but 
 they are not forgetting. No, no; they are not for- 
 getting, and if the opportunity comes, it is gey easy 
 to kindle the old love."
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 77 
 
 " Very like it is so. Once more, good-bye, Sarah." 
 
 She watched him outside the garden gate, but he 
 never turned his head. " It would have been unlike 
 him if he had," she mused. " Robert isn't one to 
 look back after he has set his face the right way, but 
 he is a grand man, and I am glad I showed him his 
 fault. For he is sure to trample any sin under his 
 feet, if he but get a blink o' it." 
 
 Brodick walked rapidly home. He had lingered 
 long behind his usual hour, and he was sure Annie 
 was wondering at his delay, even perhaps anxious 
 about it. But though he was hurried, he could not 
 be insensible to the beauty of the departing day. 
 There was an unimaginable sunset a soft sky in 
 mystic waves of color, all aglow with the sun's last 
 beams, a twilight already settling like a grey veil 
 over the misty hills, a twilight trinkling with dews, 
 and a sea so calm that it looked like a sky beneath 
 him. " The Sea is His, and He made it, and His 
 Hands fashioned the dry land." These words were 
 his most frequent reflection, and as he was repeating 
 them, he saw Annie waiting for him at the open 
 gate. He could feel her smile before he saw it, and 
 her words went forth pleasantly to meet him 
 
 " O but I'm glad to see you, father ! I thought 
 long o* your tarrying."
 
 78 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " But you werena feared for me, Annie? " 
 
 " Me feared I And for you ? Not likely. I knew 
 surely, that whatever, or whoever kept you, it was 
 all right." 
 
 '* Even so, lassie. And I have some news for you. 
 Have you had your tea ? " 
 
 " I was not caring for it, till you came home." 
 
 " But now serve yourself at once. I have had a 
 good meal. Do you want the trout ? " 
 
 She laughed, and held up the four little half- 
 pounders. " Was this the whole o' your day's work? 
 The trout must have had a gey easy time wi* you 
 to-day, father." 
 
 " I caught a few more than them, but I had to 
 stop in at Sarah Lochrigg's, and she fried some, and 
 made me a cup o' tea, and we had our talk, as we 
 ate and drank together." 
 
 "Ohl" 
 
 " She is a noble woman, there are not many like 
 her" then he told her the condition of Timothy 
 Buchan's family, and what Sarah had been doing 
 for them, and again remarked " She is a noble 
 
 woman." 
 
 " She is in some ways. But she has a very stir- 
 ring temper, and I'm thinking she was speaking 
 to-day of what is past and gone, and had better be
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 79 
 
 left alone. What is the good of moving about in 
 muddy water? " 
 
 "You are meaning?" 
 
 " I am meaning the trouble between her nephews. 
 Poor Roy ! I'll warrant he got the wyte o* her sharp 
 tongue." 
 
 " She had only good words for Roy. I was think- 
 ing she excused him over much. Excusing is accusing 
 mostly." 
 
 " You are right, father. When folks are innocent, 
 they are foolish friends who go about explaining. 
 Silence is the best answer. But whoever put out our 
 name, it was not a crime against the Law. Spite is 
 not a punishable offence." 
 
 " Annie, it is not crime that tempts men mostly. 
 It is meanness, meeserable, little, dirty faults; just 
 outside the Law's jurisdiction. I think better of a 
 man that in a moment of temptation, or passion, 
 commits a crime, than I do of a cowardly blackguard 
 sneaking through the darkness to satisfy his malice 
 and spite; not on the body for that is punishable 
 by the Law but on the tenderest feelings of the 
 Soul, which is a crime beyond the Law." 
 
 " I think such a crime ought to be punished by the 
 Law." 
 
 11 There have been hours, Annie, when I would
 
 8o The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 have liked well to have horsewhipped the dastard 
 who blacked our name. I would have given him the 
 Mosaic limit. Yes, it would have been an extraor- 
 dinar satisfaction." 
 
 " You did not take it. I am glad o' that." 
 
 " I had not the right to take it. ' The Lord be- 
 holdeth mischief and spite to requite it.' 1,'ve had 
 no authority given me, to do His work." 
 
 "You said you had news, father?" 
 
 "Ay, Sarah told me that Dr. Balmuto and hfs 
 daughter were coming to her house for the season. 
 They have rented her big parlor, and two of her 
 best bedrooms. She is much set up about the cir- 
 cumstance." 
 
 " Dr. Balmuto. It must be the same his daugh- 
 ter Marion was thick with me when we were in 
 school together. She is a queer, wee body, but bon- 
 nie ! Bonnie is no word for her beauty, she somehow 
 bewilders a man. We wrote to each other for a year, 
 then we had not a penful to say, for I did not know 
 her friends, and she didn't know mine, and it was 
 wearisome writing o'er and o'er that we loved each 
 other, and didn't forget. But I've been waiting. I 
 was sure I had not done with Marion Balmuto, and 
 lo, here she comes again ! " 
 
 They talked of the Balmutos and the new Minister, 
 until Annie had finished her tea, and the Deacon
 
 The Deacon is Reproved 8ii 
 
 had smoked a solacing pipe; then while the dishes 
 were carried away, and the room tidied, he went to 
 his own room, and remained there for half-an-hour. 
 When he returned to the house place Annie was 
 sitting at a small round table sewing. A lamp was 
 burning brightly before her, and its white light fell 
 over her pretty hands, and the brown silk ruffle she 
 was hemming. More ruffles of the same kind were 
 lying on the table, and Brodick lifted one as he 
 passed, and looked wistfully at it. 
 
 " This silk has a familiar look, Annie," he said. 
 
 There was a moment's pause, then she answered 
 in a voice full of tenderness "It was mother's. It 
 is part of the dress she wore on the last sacramental 
 occasion she ever kept. It was a new dress that day, 
 and she never wore it again." 
 
 " What are you making with it? " 
 
 " I am making it over for a kirking dress." 
 
 " You mean you mean " 
 
 " I mean to wear it to Kirk the Sunday after Roy 
 and I are married. It is beautiful silk, and all the 
 lov-elier and dearer for mother handseling it at her 
 last Sacrament. Everything from my mother is a 
 lucky handsel." 
 
 " I have seen you at your needle constant lately. 
 Are you making your wedding clothes? " 
 
 " You have guessed right, father. I like to do it,
 
 82 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 I sew many a loving, happy thought into them; 
 stranger folk would, maybe, wet the thread with 
 their tears, and stitch their ain misfortunate thoughts 
 into seam and hem." 
 
 " You should have said a word to me. You be to 
 have new goods for a new life," and he rose and laid 
 a fifty-pound note before her. " Take it, my dear, 
 and when the wedding dress is to buy, go your ways 
 to Glasgo', and get the best o' its kind. Your 
 father will pay the price o' it."
 
 CHAPTER FIVE 
 
 LOVERS ALL 
 
 THE next morning Annie awoke with a song in her 
 heart, and she was singing softly singing and 
 stopping and singing again all the time she 
 dressed herself. The world was so beautiful^ and 
 life so full of happy expectations. She had fifty 
 pounds for her bride clothes. Marion Balmuto was 
 coming, and might be a sweet companion for these 
 last weeks of her girlhood's life. True, she was not 
 very sure of Marion. Marion was not of her kind; 
 she was eminently of gentle birth. She was not of 
 her disposition. Annie was religious according to 
 the highest conception of virtue, morality and creed. 
 Marion was religious after that spiritual order, which 
 is perfect freedom. Annie knew that the hearts of 
 all men and women were desperately wicked, and 
 that her spiritual life must be one long struggle for 
 victory. Marion thought no evil of any of her fellow 
 creatures; she loved all of them, and she loved God, 
 and had no consciousness of original sin. Indeed, 
 she was astonished, almost indignant, when told she 
 was " naturally at enmity with God." She was sure 
 
 83
 
 84 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 she was not; she knew that she adored Him in the 
 smallest flower that grew. 
 
 Of these divergencies Annie was partly aware, but 
 not wholly so. During the three years which had 
 intervened since their parting Marion had grown in 
 many directions. Annie had not strayed one footstep 
 from the narrow road her church counselled. But 
 though a douce girl living by rule, and apparently 
 tideless blooded, she was disposed to look on the 
 bright side of events; so that the thought of Marion's 
 coming was, after all, a rather pleasant expectation. 
 
 It was Thursday morning, and it would likely be 
 late before the Balmutos reached Mistress Lochrigg's 
 house, and further, she considered, Marion would 
 have her clothing to unpack and put into drawers 
 and awmries; and also her grandfather was certain 
 to bring with him many books and papers, which 
 would also be to arrange. 
 
 " I will not call too soon," she reflected. " They 
 will be putting by, and laying out, for at least two 
 days; and then comes the Sabbath Day. I will go 
 and see Marion on Monday; that will be early 
 enough, for I do not wtant the little woman to think I 
 am running after her. Often she told me of her 
 money, and family, and extreme gentility. Well, 
 Annie Brodick can afford to pass by such things, with
 
 Lovers All 85 
 
 a whiff of her hand, and a slant out of her eyes. She 
 can do fine, without gentility of all kinds. She has 
 Roy!" 
 
 The thought set her singing again, and yet for all 
 that, she listened continually for strange footsteps. 
 In the afternoon the Deacon went to meet the new 
 Minister, and when he came back Annie tried to read 
 his face. It was inscrutable, for he wished her to 
 ask him for his opinions; but Annie had some little 
 wilful traits, and one of them was to restrain her 
 curiosity, and thus force her father's news. So when 
 she sat down to tea with him, she talked of the boat, 
 and the number of passengers, and made queer re- 
 marks about this, and that, but she never asked one 
 question about the new Minister. But after his 
 second cup had been served, the man gave in, as he 
 is always sure to do, if the woman holds to her re- 
 pressive tactics. 
 
 " Annie," he said, " the new Minister came." 
 
 "Did he?" 
 
 " Ay, Elder Ruthven went with me to meet him. I 
 never saw Ruthven look so thin and so religious. 
 I'm thinking he wanted the young man to understand 
 at first sight that there would be no deviations, and 
 no new-fangled ideas permitted in our Kirk." 
 
 "Then he is a young man?"
 
 86 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Ay, and a rather handsome young man to look 
 at." 
 
 ' Handsome is that handsome does,' " quoted 
 Annie, " but he is having a good record is he not? " 
 
 " Good? Yes, as to talking. Most young men 
 like to talk. I can mind well, when I thought I 
 would rather be a preacher than a King. It is a very 
 satisfactory thing to hear yoursel' speaking with 
 power and freedom." 
 
 Annie wanted next to know what appearance this 
 Apollas of the pulpit had, and she fixed upon his 
 name as the best leader to her object. " What is the 
 young man's name, father?" she asked in a non- 
 chalant manner. 
 
 " James Alexander Archibald Crieff." 
 
 " Preserve us ! Does he sign all them names to 
 his letters?" 
 
 " I wouldn't wonder. All the letters sent to our 
 Kirk had the full name to them." 
 
 " He must be a Highlandman." 
 
 " He is. Ruthven told me he came from the 
 North Aberdeen way, I think but Elder Bruce is 
 sure he is a Moray or Sutherland man." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because he has their stature they are all sons 
 o' Anak."
 
 Lovers All 87 
 
 " He is tall then. Mr. Saunders was a wee man 
 he had no pulpit presence." 
 
 " Mr. Crieff is six feet, and three or four inches 
 over it I'll say that, and I'll not be mistaken." 
 
 "You think him handsome?" 
 
 " Well, I think he is not un-handsome. The man 
 has red hair. I'm not liking red hair." 
 
 " If he shaves clean, you may put up with the 
 hair on his head. And a fine skin goes with red 
 hair." 
 
 " Freckly, but he has a big white brow, and a 
 pleasant mouth, and a straight nose, and two grey 
 eyes that dirl themselves clean through you." 
 
 " I am glad I have given my heart away, else I 
 might have fallen in love with this red-haired High- 
 lander." 
 
 " It would be easy for any woman to do worse." 
 
 " He will have a great congregation o' the women 
 folk, no doubt. Does he look like a gentleman, or 
 is he like Mr. Saunders, out o' some bit shop in the 
 Candleriggs street o' Glasgow? " 
 
 " What do you mean by a gentleman, Annie? " 
 
 " Tell me how he was dressed." 
 
 " O I it is the man's clothes, is it? Weel, he wasn't 
 Pressed like a Minister at all." 
 
 " I am glad of that. Poor Mr. Saunders was
 
 88 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 fairly choking with his ministerial dignity. He could 
 hardly turn his head for the stiff neckband he 
 
 wore." 
 
 " There was no starch in Mr. Crieff 's neckband. 
 It was just a soft bit o' black silk." 
 
 "Black!" 
 
 " Ay, blade." 
 
 " I am fairly astonished. But Mr. James A. A. 
 Crieff is going to be interesting, if his words are as 
 comfortable as his clothes. Did he wear a black 
 coat?" 
 
 " Not he ! The first thing I noticed was his hand- 
 some suit o' grey tweeds." 
 
 " Father, you are an extraordinar observer. Few 
 women would not have seen as much of the man. 
 Nothing escapes you." 
 
 The Deacon was much pleased at the compliment ; 
 it coincided with his own private opinion regarding 
 his power of heedful, intelligent notice. " Weel, 
 Annie," he answered, " a man who has watched the 
 winds and the sea for thirty years, and learned every 
 puff o' the winds, and every frill o' the sea, is bound 
 to be an observing man. So I didn't miss much o 1 
 the personality o' Mr. Crieff. I made special notice 
 o' his pocket handkerchief it was that fine and 
 white, and the big ring on his finger wasn't bought
 
 Lovers All 89 
 
 for a few bawbees, and the shoes and stockings on 
 his feet, and the gloves on his hands, were of the 
 best quality; and the cut o' his soft hat was the same 
 cut as the one I saw the Duke wearing two days ago; 
 and much o' the same color likewise." 
 
 "Was it black?" 
 
 " It was not. It was the color o' the Tweed suit 
 he was wearing; and his gloves were not a shade 
 different." 
 
 " What a dandy ! I never heard tell of a Minister 
 out of his ' blacks ' unless he was in his study, or 
 digging his garden, or some other secular work." 
 
 " But he is not a dandy don't you think it. Noth- 
 ing at all like Dandy Faulds, and such men. He had 
 an earnest face, and a purposeful way; forbye a 
 pleasant laugh, and a trifle o' Highland accent in his 
 speech; ay, and a trick o' drawing his white hand 
 across his brow and eyes, as if he wanted to see 
 clearer. I liked him prudently, of course to begin 
 with." 
 
 " He will not be here long. I can prophesy that 
 far." 
 
 " He is not intending to stop longer than the Sum- 
 mer lasts. He has what he calls * his Settlement ' to 
 look after. At present his settlers are in the moun- 
 tains for the hot weather, but they'll be back to the
 
 90 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 planestones o' Edinburgh streets early in September, 
 and then " 
 
 " He will go back to them? " 
 
 " No doubt o' that." 
 
 ;< Thank you, father. I know the man now as well 
 as if I had seen him. Will he preach next Sabbath 
 Day?" 
 
 " As far as I know, he will." 
 
 " I am very curious, but I can wait until the Sab- 
 bath." 
 
 " Annie Brodick ! You will go to Kirk to worship 
 God, not to see the Minister; or else you'll bide at 
 hame." 
 
 " Father, you know what I mean." 
 
 " It is a good plan to say what you mean. You 
 haven't asked a question about the Balmutos. I saw 
 them both an auld man and a slender slip of a 
 girl." 
 
 " I will go and see them on Monday." 
 
 " Why not to-morrow? " 
 
 " It is not the custom to call upon visitors at once. 
 You must give them two or three days to settle." 
 
 " Weel, if you care so little about them as to wait 
 upon custom, I would not go at all. Write and ask 
 her to spend Monday with you. I am going to 
 Glasgow as early as maybe."
 
 Lovers All 91; 
 
 " I will think about it, father. Marion used 
 to be trying at times. She isn't a worldlike per- 
 son." 
 
 " All the better for you." 
 
 " I'm doubting that. While we are in this world 
 we must be content with it. Marion was always try- 
 ing to get beyond what is revealed ; yes, to get beyond 
 even the probabilities. She is a thought too spiritual 
 for the temporal." 
 
 " I'm not understanding." 
 
 '* That is it; you can't explain her; and you can't 
 understand her. She is whiles incomprehensible, and 
 says things you can neither make sensible, nor foolish. 
 But she is good and loving ; " and then with a sudden 
 flash of truth from the inward part she added, " Per- 
 haps I am jealous of her. She is beyond me every 
 way. I will write and ask her to spend Monday 
 with me." 
 
 The next morning as Annie sat sewing in the sun- 
 shine, there was a soft knock upon the door. She 
 turned quickly towards it, and saw Marion standing 
 just outside its shadow a small, slender figure 
 clothed in white, cross-bar muslin frock; and on her 
 head a Tuscan hat. There was a joyful cry of recog- 
 nition, and then Annie untied the hat, and Marion's 
 face came fully out from beneath its broad rose-
 
 92 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 trimmed brim. Annie kissed it, and said with a rare 
 show of affection 
 
 " My dear Marion, you have more than your old 
 charm. I'm feeling sure I shall be your slave again." 
 
 " No, no, my friend Annie ; though it is a kind of 
 slavery to put up with my queer ideas and feelings; 
 grandfather says so, and sometimes he loses his 
 temper with me you never did." 
 
 " Nor am I likely to. You are very little changed, 
 just as childlike as ever. What have you been doing 
 these past three years? " 
 
 " I have been reading books grandfather thinks 
 I would be wise not to read." 
 
 " Why do you not obey him ? He knows more 
 than you do." 
 
 " He knows nothing about that Divine Other, 
 that Thee in Me who dwells behind the fleshly veil. 
 And, Annie, I want to find out, I want to find out; 
 the real woman in me cannot rest by night or day. 
 She was born into this life with wings, I think, and 
 they fret, fret, fret upon my soul. I want to go 
 home." 
 
 "You are always at home, Marion. No one has 
 a better home than you have." 
 
 " Oh, you don't understand ! Yes, I have a good 
 home for this Marion " and she stroked her bare
 
 Lovers All 93 
 
 arms and lovely face with her small hands " but 
 this Marion has a guest, a soul that, wandering, lost 
 its way; and my little body was the special home it 
 happened on ; but it is always crying for its lost heav- 
 enly home, and I am always seeking a road, Annie, 
 always seeking always seeking." 
 
 " My dear Marion." That was all the reply 
 Annie could make. She was in the presence of a soul 
 seeing by a sense of which she was ignorant. Annie's 
 life was clearly above consciousness, her religion set 
 firmly upon a foundation defined by creed, catechism 
 and infallible church; but Marion's life was, in its 
 best sense, below consciousness; along that frontier 
 of shining table-land illumined by the Divine Other, 
 the Thee in Me, and the tidings-bringing Angels. 
 
 Now, to oppose to Marion's spiritual cravings 
 some strong material interest had been Annie's 
 method with her friend in their former intercourse, 
 and she could think of no better plan at the present 
 hour. So she drew her chair closer, and said with 
 sweet enthusiasm " How pretty you are, Marion ! " 
 And Marion smiled and lifted a spray of Lemon 
 Verbena to her friend's face 
 
 " Has it not a heavenly perfume ? " she asked. " I 
 have heard the Angels like to rest in gardens where 
 it grows."
 
 94 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " I thought you never pulled a flower." 
 
 " I never do. Every flower loves its life, and I 
 dare not destroy what I cannot give. Mrs. Lochrigg 
 put this spray in my hand with a good wish. So I 
 keep the leaves for the hope they carry. Verbena 
 is the harbinger of strange news, or the bringer of 
 strange guests." 
 
 "Is that so?" 
 
 " Do you think flowers have no message? All of 
 them carry a mystery. When a stranger gives you a 
 flower, something will happen, notice what it is, and 
 you have the message of the flower." 
 
 " I will tell you, Marion, something that is going 
 to happen my marriage perhaps in August or Sep- 
 tember. Will you be my bridesmaid? " 
 
 " Oh, I should like that ! Who are you going to 
 marry? Is he good? Does he love you ? What are 
 you going to wear? " 
 
 " I want you to advise me. I know very little about 
 fashions." 
 
 " There is only one fashion, and one color for a 
 bride. Tell me all about it. Are you making your 
 own clothes?" 
 
 " Yes, and with my own hands." 
 
 " I should think so ; fancy making wedding clothes, 
 on a machine oil and dirt, and loose ends, all over
 
 Lovers All 95 
 
 them. I do not intend to marry, but if it happened, 
 I would sew with my own fingers every garment full 
 of love, and dreams, and romances." 
 
 " Will you come and sew some love and dreams 
 into my garments? " 
 
 " That would give me pleasure. I will come on 
 Monday morning." 
 
 Then Annie showed her the garments completed, 
 and told her about those intended, and they were 
 soon lost in an enthusiastic discussion concerning 
 things proper and possible, and impossible. Suddenly 
 there was an imperative knock at the door, and Annie 
 dropped the cloth in her hand, and went to answer 
 it. Marion stood looking at the intruder, vaguely 
 curious, but without interest, childlike indeed in her 
 complete absence of shyness or self-consciousness. 
 
 Yet both girls knew instinctively that it was the 
 new Minister; and a faint smile accompanied Annie's 
 quick thought of his lengthy name. She might of 
 course address him as a stranger, and so compel him 
 to introduce himself; but this plan never entered 
 Annie's mind. She knew who it was, why should she 
 pretend not to know? So she said frankly 
 
 " You are Mr. Crieff, I am thinking? " 
 
 At that moment Mr. Crieff's life was in his eyes. 
 He was gazing at Marion, and he could not at once
 
 96 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 command his speech. So Annie said again " You 
 are Mr. Crieff, I am thinking?" 
 
 Then he regarded her with an enforced smile and 
 answered, " You are right, Miss Brodick. Miss 
 Brodick is it not?" 
 
 " Yes, I am Annie Brodick. Do you wish to see 
 my father, Sir? " 
 
 " I would like to do so. Is he at home?" 
 
 " He will be in half an hour." 
 
 " Can I wait here for him? " 
 
 " Come in, Sir," and she swept from the table the 
 obtruding garments, and led him to Marion. " My 
 friend, Mis Balmuto," she said. Then Marion 
 bowed, and lifted her eyes to meet Crieff's love-laden 
 gaze. Quick as a flash of thought, she was so trans- 
 figured by a wave of rosy color, which spread over 
 her face, and throat, and arms, and eloquent hands, 
 that her whole body seemed to think and feel. What- 
 ever was the cause of this emotion, it was new and 
 charming to her; and she liked the bringer of it. As 
 he talked with Annie, she silently watched him, some- 
 times lifting her eyes to his face, only to know again 
 that strange awakening which accentuated her sense 
 of life a thousand fold. 
 
 And Crieff in these flashing glances filled his soul 
 with her picture. He had seen many lovely women,
 
 Lovers All 97 
 
 and he acknowledged Annie Brodick as among them ; 
 but Marion was a being altogether apart and differ- 
 ent a little creature in a check-bar muslin frock, her 
 black hair plainly banded, her large soft eyes full of 
 a joy he did not understand, because none know it 
 but they who seek it alone; her dreamy smile, her 
 quiet, her neatness, and, above all, her innocent sim- 
 plicity, charmed him. He had come into the room a 
 free man, he was to leave it a bondman to emotions 
 from which he desired no release. 
 
 Towards twelve o'clock the Deacon sent word 
 he would not be home for dinner, and Crieff rose to 
 depart. " I am going to Mrs. Lochrigg's," he said, 
 " and if Miss Balmuto will accept my escort we can 
 walk there together." Marion made neither demurs 
 nor excuses; she lifted her hat, and Crieff stood, lost 
 in admiration, while Annie tied the pink ribbons 
 under her wilful little chin, and laid the rosebuds 
 above the shadowy black hair. 
 
 " Thank you, dear Annie," she said; " I will come 
 on Monday morning and help you to sew;" then 
 turning to Crieff, she added, " Now I will go home 
 with you." Annie sauntered with them through the 
 garden, and then watched them a while down the 
 road. Crieff had taken his place at Marion's side, 
 and was walking there as angels may walk in Para-
 
 98 The Handa of Compulsion 
 
 disc when there is joy because of some great good 
 that has come to the souls they love on earth. 
 
 Somehow the sight of this uncontrollable falling 
 in love made Annie sad. What adoration, what fear, 
 and joy, and loss of self there was in it ! If this was 
 the real manifestation of Love, what could she think 
 of Roy? For a while she troubled herself over the 
 difference, but her faith in her lover soon suggested 
 a reason for it: 
 
 " No two men," she thought, " look alike, or act 
 alike in any capacity, and love-making is such a very 
 personal thing, it stands to reason, that every man will 
 make love in a different way. And," she continued, 
 " I am far from thinking Mr. Crieff's way would be 
 satisfactory to me. A man who can't carry his love 
 secretly is a very open creature; Roy's way suits me 
 perfectly." 
 
 All the long Summer afternoon she thought and 
 sewed, but she did not sing, and when the Deacon 
 came home, she did not open her heart to him. She 
 had told herself that the events surrounding her were 
 now laid ready for happenings of all kinds, and that 
 it would be the part of wisdom to mind her own 
 affairs, and let others make any move that was either 
 foredoomed or yet to be bespoken. 
 
 She was expecting Roy and anxious for the com-
 
 Lovers All 99 
 
 fort of his presence, for a vague feeling of something 
 not right floated on the horizon of her soul. It was 
 but a cloud no bigger than a man's hand, but she 
 wished it dispersed; and felt as if Roy's beaming 
 smile and generally light-hearted temper would put 
 all right. So she was glad when she heard his 
 footsteps, and she went into the garden to meet 
 him. 
 
 " Father is in his room, Roy, making his heart quiet 
 for the Sabbath. He always has a still hour or two 
 after Saturday's sunset the preparation, you know 
 so we will stay here, and talk a little. I am very glad 
 to see you." 
 
 Roy looked at her gloomily. His manner was un- 
 responsive, he was evidently in a bad temper, and he 
 soon began to give his reasons for it 
 
 " I'm worried out o' myself, Annie," he said. 
 
 " I am sorry, Roy. What is wrong now ? " 
 
 "Will Morrison, of course." 
 
 " Your brother Will? I cannot think it." 
 
 " To be sure. I expected you to say that, or the 
 like o' that. Nobody thinks Will can possibly do 
 wrong, but he can raise Cain in my breast." 
 
 " Hush ! I will not hear you make a comparison 
 like that. What has Will done to make you think 
 of Cain?"
 
 ioo The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " He's got all the Morrison luck mine as well as 
 his own and he hasn't a thought o' sharing it not 
 he, indeed ! " 
 
 "What luck in particular has come to Will?" 
 
 " Would you believe that he sails on Tuesday for 
 New York? on one o' the big liners too." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 " He just daundered into McBrine's, and said he 
 wanted to engage for a long voyage, and they told 
 him one o' their third officers had the diphtheria, and 
 they would be obliged to him if he would take 
 the sick man's place until he was better obliged to 
 him that, and no less, and of course Will snapped 
 at the offer, and so he is off to New York on Tuesday 
 next. And here am I ! I have wanted to go to New 
 York for many a year, but nobody ever asked me to 
 go, paid me to go, and told me they would * feel 
 obligated to me if I would go.' No indeed ! " 
 
 " Roy, you could not have taken Will's place. 
 You told me you never finished your navigation 
 studies, and that you fairly hated them. You would 
 have been a risk and a danger, and far from a help. 
 Will has been across the Atlantic often, and is fully 
 to be trusted." 
 
 " And I am not to be trusted." 
 
 " In your own place you are fully trustworthy, but
 
 Lovers All 101 
 
 an Atlantic Liner is not your place. So, be glad Will 
 has got the pleasure of it.'* 
 
 " I am not glad, and I am sick o' my own place. I 
 want bigger work for your sake." 
 
 " We will talk of that again, Roy. I like myself 
 to have a peaceful hour on Saturday night. Have 
 you seen the Balmutos ? Marion was here this morn- 
 ing. She is a pretty little woman." 
 
 " And proud, and stuck-up as a peacock in full 
 feather. I watched her on the boat. She kept close 
 to the auld man with her though there was two or 
 three young fellows doing their best to please her, or 
 get her anything she wanted. She was like a lump 
 of ice to every word they said, and I saw a grin on 
 the auld man's face, that was just the essence of a' 
 things provoking. I had thought of presenting my- 
 self to her, and making a remark or two about our 
 situation, but when I saw the baby-like ways she put 
 on " 
 
 "Baby-like, Roy!" 
 
 "Yes, just that; shrinking close to the auld man's 
 side, with a kind of feared look, as if every young 
 man on board was some sort of a roaring lion." 
 
 Annie laughed at the idea. "She would have to fetch 
 a thought far, to think of roaring- lions and Glas- 
 gow shopmen at the same moment," she answered.
 
 IO2 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " The shopmen and trippers never looked at her. 
 It was young Faulds, and Alec Sinclair, and that 
 private secretary fellow from the Castle. And she 
 treated them as if they were not there. So I kept my 
 distance from her." 
 
 " You did right. To have spoken would have 
 been very vulgar." 
 
 " Don't use such words to me, Annie. I am all 
 of a quiver to-night, and I can tell you, she does not 
 think Will vulgar. She took to him at once, and so 
 did the auld man, and at this hour Will is in their 
 parlor, playing draughts with the auld " 
 
 " With the Professor." 
 
 " Well, then, Professor be it." 
 
 " But there is nothing in this to put you in a 
 quiver of ill-temper, for that is your present condi- 
 tion, Roy a fit of envy and ill-temper." 
 
 " You must not talk to me in that way, Annie. It 
 is not your place, and it is not your duty. I came for 
 you to comfort me." 
 
 "Comfort you I Because your brother has had 
 some good luck and good favor. It is not a case for 
 comfort, but for congratulation. You ought to be 
 glad and sweet-tempered over it. If the luck had 
 come to you, Will would have been rejoicing. When
 
 Lovers All 103 
 
 you told him you had won my promise, he gave you 
 good wishes and God's blessing." 
 
 " Who told you that nonsense? " 
 
 " Your aunt told my father, and my father told 
 
 me." 
 
 " I fairly hate Will Morrison, lately." 
 
 " Be quiet, Roy." 
 
 " I'll say my say " 
 
 "To yourself, then. I am not stopping here to 
 listen to it;" and she turned from him, went to the 
 house, and slowly shut the door. She hoped he would 
 prevent this last proof of her displeasure, but he did 
 not; indeed she heard the clashing of the garden gate 
 before the house door reluctantly snapped into its 
 place. It seemed as if she had shut herself out, and 
 she went to her room, and wept sorrowful tears for 
 the angry words she had said. Finally, physical wear- 
 iness brought her sleep, but it was sleep passed in a 
 weird masquerade of impossible dreams, that gave 
 her neither enlightenment nor expansion, and from 
 which she awakened with a blinding headache. 
 
 " You are ill, this morning, Annie," said her father, 
 " and you had better stay at home, and keep quiet." 
 
 She was grateful for the permission, and towards 
 evening was so much better that she went down-
 
 [IO4 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 stairs to make her father's tea. He was in one of his 
 sweetest moods gentle, affectionate, and gravely 
 happy. " It has been a blessed day, Annie," he said; 
 " outside, earth has been like Paradise, and inside 
 the Kirk, everyone has been satisfied." 
 " Then Mr. Crieff is a good preacher? " 
 " A good preacher by the grace of God. His be- 
 liefs are beyond dispute, and he is confident that he 
 understands the Almighty perfectly, and that atti- 
 tude is satisfactory to a congregation who have been 
 well grounded and trained in the system o' Christian 
 theology. He is young yet, and so he had no doubts 
 of any kind, but discussed men's claim to immortal 
 life and happiness with a power and positiveness 
 that must have made all not sure o' their election, fear 
 and tremble." 
 
 " He fell madly in love with Marion Balmuto." 
 " I hope not madly. Men need a double portion 
 o' sense when they are in love so do women but 
 falling in love isn't a subject for the Sabbath Day." 
 
 It was out of such materials that the web of life was 
 woven for the next two months. Stitches were 
 dropped and picked up, and warp and woof got tan- 
 gled, and were straightened again, and the results 
 may be easily indicated. Annie's affection for Roy 
 had increased, for it had been tried in a variety of
 
 Lovers All 105 
 
 ways. At the end of July his Captain recommended 
 him to take a month's holiday, and a young man, 
 whom Mr. Crieff advised, was put in his place during 
 the interval. Roy affected both pride and pleasure 
 in this consideration, but Annie had some private sus- 
 picions about it, and the Deacon, when informed of 
 the circumstance, refused all comment. For he felt 
 sure that it was a sort of dismissal, and that Roy 
 would have to look out for some other career. And 
 that might put off the marriage. To put it off, was 
 all Brodick hoped for; he knew that opposition would 
 be of no use, but time; time, he told himself, might 
 do what nothing else could. 
 
 So during the month of August Roy was a great 
 deal with Annie and consequently had many oppor- 
 tunities of meeting Marion Balmuto. No friendship 
 grew out of these meetings; there was not only a total 
 lack of sympathy between them, there was actual dis- 
 like; in Marion's case, arising from an instinctive 
 knowledge of the man; and in Roy's case, from 
 wounded self-esteem, and a hateful envy of Crieff. 
 For he constantly told himself that but for his rela- 
 tions with Annie, and Marion's relations with Crieff, 
 he might have been the favored lover of the well- 
 born, wealthy Miss Balmuto. 
 
 " But I have had bad luck in both my business
 
 106 The Hands 'of Compulsion 
 
 and my love," was his usual soliloquy. " I saw my 
 dismissal in Captain's Young's face, when he told 
 me ' to play myself for a month ' and as ill fate 
 ordered, I had to tie myself to Annie, just before I 
 met Marion Balmuto. Weel, I must just make the 
 best o' things, and surely if I do lose my place, Annie 
 will get her father to make room for me in his shop 
 he ought to do so it is nothing more than his duty 
 forbye, he might well be glad to have a bright, hand- 
 some young man behind his old-fashioned counter. I 
 would doubtless bring him lots o' business." 
 
 Such, and such-like, were the thoughts and hopes 
 in Roy's heart, as he sat with Annie in the bright, hot 
 August sunshine. Generally he was gay and enter- 
 taining, yet often cross and contradictious enough, to 
 try even Annie's patience beyond endurance; for she 
 could not help noticing that he was his best self when 
 Marion was present. In his heart he disliked Marion, 
 but he wished to make her unhappy; he believed she 
 was really in love with him, and only accepted Crieff's 
 company to hide her disappointment and chagrin. 
 This attitude is a common one among young men 
 enamoured of their own appearance, and as a general 
 thing it is as false and unreasonable as in the pres- 
 ent case. 
 
 Annie knew there was not an atom of truth in Roy's 
 hints and insinuations, but she was troubled at this
 
 Lovers All 107 
 
 temptation being in his way. She wished Marion 
 had not come back into her life. She said to herself 
 " Marion is a good girl, whiles she is too good 
 for anything, and only God knows how aggravating 
 very good people can be." It grew constantly harder 
 for her to fight down an unreasonable dislike, for she 
 felt that everything in her life had suffered a slight 
 change since Marion came to her home that day in 
 June, and met Crieff there.. Her long, quiet morn- 
 ings were broken up by Marion's pretence at sewing, 
 and the certain sequence of Crieff 's call to convoy 
 her home. 
 
 And very often during these broken mornings, 
 some trifling look, or word, or act, occurred capable 
 of infusing the long, hot afternoons with anxiety or 
 chagrin. 
 
 For if Roy and Crieff met in Annie's home, Roy 
 was boastful and irritating; Crieff calm and silent; 
 and Marion exasperatingly indifferent to words and 
 looks edged with wrath and disdain. Her prattle of 
 heather and blue bells, her holy eyes, her innocent 
 face, her unconscious air of being in some happy 
 atmosphere beyond the stir of human passions, pro- 
 voked Annie, and made Roy put his hands in his 
 pockets to clinch them. Indeed it was only CriefTs 
 masterful control of himself and incidentally of 
 others that prevented the strong, regular order of
 
 io8 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Brodick's domestic life being broken by some calam- 
 ity, that no innocence could delay, nor self-sacrifice 
 avert. 
 
 In this situation it was Crieff's pleasure to pass by 
 offences, to show himself beyond grieving in Love's 
 presence, and to carry his Marion from the unhappy 
 unrest up to some cool covert in the hills, and sit 
 there with her, blissfully silent, amid the whispering 
 of pines, and the music of running waters. Such 
 hours had a sacramental efficacy, and in them he di- 
 vined something of that sixth sense by which the in- 
 nocent girl at his side heard inward voices from the 
 reality of unseen things, and saw the world as the 
 old prophets saw it. 
 
 Another change that seemed of little importance, 
 but eventually proved of great importance, was the 
 rapid growth of a strong friendship between Brodick 
 and Professor Balmuto, and as Roy was generally 
 with Annie in the evenings, the Deacon went more 
 and more frequently to Mistress Lochrigg's house to 
 spend two or three hours with his friend. In old age 
 men do not frequently make new friendships, but this 
 was an exception. Brodick's intelligence, reasonable- 
 ness, and love for religious discussion, stimulated the 
 Professor's wide knowledge and advanced modern 
 thought. He delighted in dropping seed into such
 
 Lovers All 109 
 
 good ground, and the month of August saw the two 
 old men nearly always together. 
 
 Their companionship gave Annie little concern. 
 Her father's absence made room for Roy, and re- 
 lieved her from that tension and constant fear of dis- 
 agreement, almost unavoidable when the old man and 
 the young man were together. Love is selfish, and 
 Annie regarded any event as fortunate if it was fa- 
 vorable to Roy's happiness, or Roy's future. So 
 Brodick soon felt that if he was not wanted in his own 
 house, he was very welcome in the. house of Mistress 
 Lochrigg, and her cheery " good-evening, Robert," 
 and the Professor's beaming smile, were balm and 
 honey to his wounded heart. Then it was draughts, 
 or chess, and the long pipe, and wonderful talk 
 anent things celestial, or things ecclesiastical, and 
 especially of this daily life with its bewildering mys- 
 teries, its griefs so certain, its needs so urgent and 
 near, and its help and God so vague and far off. 
 
 One evening the Professor ended his remarks in 
 these hopeless words, and Marion most unexpectedly 
 answered them. She was in an ecstasy of love and 
 joy, and her voice thrilled the inmost being of her 
 listeners. " God is not far off," she said. " We are 
 in God. His ear is close to our lips. It is never 
 taken away. Even when we sleep and dream we
 
 no The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 sigh into it." Her face was shining and lifted up, her 
 hands clasped, she filled the room with a Presence 
 
 " that disturbed them with the Joy 
 Of elevated thought, and sense of Something 
 Still more deeply interfused." 
 
 Brodick bowed his head and was profoundly moved; 
 the Professor more actively so, for after a few mo- 
 ments' silence he said in a voice full of that Belief 
 which prays passionately against Unbelief I trust 
 it so, 
 
 " For if this pure solace should desert my mind, 
 What were all else! I dare not risk the loss, 
 To the old paths my Soul ! " 
 
 The last few words were given in the ringing voice 
 of a spiritual soldier, fighting for that inconceivable 
 treasure the immortal Soul and after them all 
 ordinary speech was discord. Brodick rose, put his 
 hand on his friend's shoulder and went away without 
 a word; and it was only characteristic of Scotchmen 
 that they never spoke of the circumstance again. These 
 interruptions were not frequent, but yet they occurred 
 sufficiently often to be a distinct element in the inter- 
 course between Balmuto and Brodick. 
 
 Swiftly the Summer days went past, and early in 
 September the city visitors began to return to Glas-
 
 Lovers All in 
 
 gow. The Balmutos were among the first to leave, for 
 the Professor had duties he was eager to meet. " I 
 have had a good rest, Brodick," he said, " and I have 
 found you. Our opinions differ, and our ways are 
 apart, but we can each say as we go: 
 
 " ' Whatever there is to know, 
 That we shall know, 
 Some day.'" 
 
 Neither Marion nor Annie was sorry the season 
 was over. Marion had not been attracted by Annie's 
 friends and surroundings, and she had been compelled 
 to share Crieff's time with people not congenial to 
 either of them. She had been out of sympathy with 
 her life, restless and uncertain, but to have Crieff and 
 his hopes and plans all to herself, had harmony in its 
 very thought. 
 
 More than any one, Annie had been dissatisfied. In 
 many ways she judged Marion and Crieff unfortu- 
 nate to her happiness. The peaceful, regular routine 
 of her life had been constantly invaded; and Crieff's 
 frequent presence had kept Roy many times away 
 from her. Oh, she had so many little grievances that 
 she felt, but did not like to name, even to her own 
 heart. She only knew that the Summer had been a 
 failure. At its beginning her marriage had been prob-
 
 ii2 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 able, it was now uncertain, for Roy had lost his posi- 
 tion on The Lady Mary, and had not been successful 
 in finding anything he wished to take. 
 
 In fact, Roy had set his heart on going into the 
 Deacon's business. From long, selfish musings on the 
 subject, he had come to the conclusion that it was 
 his proper place. " People will wonder if your 
 father does not take me in," he said to Annie. ** If 
 I am to be his son-in-law, it stands to reason, he 
 ought to treat me like one of the family. And it is a 
 sort o' reflection on my good name to be put outside, 
 and forced to seek my bread from strange folk." 
 
 " You are going too fast, Roy," Annie replied. " If 
 you speak to father just yet, you will get the back o* 
 the hand. I am sure o' that." 
 
 " Then speak for me, Annie. You might do that 
 much. It is easy for you to ask a kindness from your 
 father, but it is gey hard for me to seek favor from 
 folk that know nothing about me, and so, don't even 
 treat me with becoming respect." 
 
 At length after repeated urgings Annie found a 
 favorable moment to say " Father, Roy has failed 
 again in getting the place he wrote for." 
 
 " He should have gone about it. Letters ! Par- 
 feet nonsense ! A man ought to speak for himself." 
 
 " Is there anything you can do for him? "
 
 Lovers All 113 
 
 44 He has never asked me to do anything for him." 
 
 44 He is afraid you would refuse him." 
 
 44 1 should." 
 
 44 Then why do you wish him to ask you ? That 
 is more unkind than you ought to be." 
 
 44 If he had had the gumption to say his own words, 
 I would have thought it more manful than sending 
 them by you that is all." 
 
 44 And you would have refused his request? " 
 
 44 1 would." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 44 Because I could not trust him." 
 
 44 Oh, father! Yet you will trust him with your 
 daughter." 
 
 44 1 do not. My daughter trusts herself with him. 
 I take no blame as to what comes of that trust. You 
 know well what I think of your marriage with Roy 
 Morrison but there is no use trying to reason with 
 a girl in love. You could as easy beat a cloud with 
 a walking stick." 
 
 44 Poor Roy I Everybody throws a bad word at 
 him. They might as well throw stones." 
 
 44 His enemies are a troop of his own calling. I 
 wish he was a better lad, then he would have friends 
 in plenty. Arran men stand together when they
 
 U4 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Perhaps you are right, father, but there is set 
 before me a different measure. I can keep Roy in 
 the right way. I can help him to conquer what is 
 false and foolish in his nature. Even if I loved him 
 less dearly, I would feel Roy to be my task and my 
 duty." 
 
 " If you talk of duty, I dare not come between you 
 and your duty. I have nothing to say. For, my dear 
 lass, a visible duty is a direct order from God. To 
 obey, or to disobey its call, is, in an overwhelming 
 sense, to say yes, or no, to God." 
 
 Then he went away, and left Annie standing by his 
 chair. It made his heart ache to do so, but after her 
 claim he could not interfere. There Annie stood for 
 a few minutes, still as a stone, gathering her soul's 
 forces together. Her serene brow and unalterable 
 calm came not from doubt or indifference; she knew 
 what she had to defend, and, alas, she knew also what 
 she might be called upon to abandon I But her father's 
 words had thrilled and uplifted her; obediently she 
 inclined her head, as she inclined her heart, and in 
 low audible tones answered: 
 
 "I ask that Duty always speak to me; through 
 flood and fire I will obey."
 
 CHAPTER SIX 
 
 THE GATE OF SORROW 
 
 DURING the next two months Roy was seeking em- 
 ployment in a fitful kind of way, keeping always at 
 the bottom of his expectations the belief that Brodick 
 would finally give him a trial ; and if so, he told him- 
 self, it would not be long " ere he had firm grip of 
 the whole business." He was a great deal in Annie's 
 company during this time, he confided to her all his 
 hopes and disappointments, all his likes and dislikes; 
 he expected her to be enthusiastic over plans whose 
 futility she could see at a glance, and he came to her 
 with angry complaints when his unreasonable at- 
 tempts ended in immense disillusions. And surely a 
 girl so wise and affectionate must during those two 
 months have been thoroughly enlightened as to the 
 magnitude of the duty she had undertaken. 
 
 So occupied was she with this service of love that 
 her father's nearly constant absence in the evenings 
 was hardly noticed, and when Roy's remarks forced it 
 upon her consideration, she instantly read its meaning 
 in the light of her own wishes and p re-occupation. 
 
 "5
 
 n6 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " He is staying away to let Roy have his chance," she 
 thought, " and it is kind and fatherly of him. I'll 
 tell him so, when I can get him to talk of Roy again." 
 
 That the Deacon should leave the comforts of his 
 own fireside and go to every Kirk meeting, or spend 
 the hours with Elder Ruthven, or go to his shop and 
 take stock, or look over his ledger, seemed to the self- 
 ishness of lovers quite the natural thing for him to do. 
 Sometimes he returned home dull and thoughtful, and 
 ate his oat cake and cheese without unnecessary 
 speech; but generally he was cheerful and disposed 
 to share with Annie any news he had. She was not 
 much interested if he talked, and quite satisfied if 
 he kept silence. It was as if in the stress of her 
 watch over Roy, she had forgotten all the sweet 
 confidences of their past life together. 
 
 Brodick neither questioned nor complained. He 
 saw that she was going through a conflict, and was 
 trying to conquer by faith and love as soldiers con- 
 quer by courage. There was a kind of sacredness 
 in this hope that denied her own senses, a sad fatal- 
 ity, for he could not help believing she would event- 
 ually be beaten by some unforeseen stress of circum- 
 stance, or some terrible knowledge of things as they 
 were. 
 
 This friction of wills and interests evoked condi-
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 117 
 
 tions influencing all, far beyond their knowledge. 
 Sarah Lochrigg was the first to speak of it. " Rob- 
 ert," she said one afternoon when she was in his 
 shop making purchases, " Robert, you be to consider 
 Annie a little. She looks like a haunted woman, and 
 her eyes are wells o' anxiety and fear. Roy is o'er 
 much for her take my word for it." 
 
 " She will have to prove that to herself, Sarah. 
 She will take no one's word for it." 
 
 " Will is coming home to-day. He has had a fine 
 time on the Liner, and he is fairly out o' his senses 
 about America. You would think the man had 
 never seen Scotland." 
 
 " I hope you'll be able to keep the lads from 
 quarreling. It is a shameful thing for brothers to 
 do." 
 
 " Weel, Robert, in time we forgive even the peo- 
 ple whom we have injured. If Roy will forget, Will 
 is not likely to call up what is past and gone. It is a 
 pity you don't like Roy. You might influence him a 
 deal, Robert." 
 
 " Sarah, no one can force love. It is there, or it 
 is not there. And no one can influence Roy against 
 his will. He ought to go into the world and find his 
 level. He rates himself too high. Nobody wants 
 him."
 
 n8 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 This conversation annoyed Brodick. He had a 
 half-realized fear about Will's return. The young 
 men could not meet without some result; what was 
 it to be? On his way home he happened to see the 
 meeting of the brothers. Will the very incarna- 
 tion of health and prosperity was walking rapidly 
 toward Mrs. Lochrigg's, and Roy was directly in 
 his path. Without a moment's hesitation Will hailed 
 his brother, and as Roy came closer he stretched 
 out both hands to greet him. Then side by side, 
 laughing and chatting, they went on their way to- 
 gether. 
 
 " Annie," said the Deacon as he took his place at 
 the tea table, " I saw a pleasant sight as I came 
 home. I saw Will Morrison and his brother meet, 
 and I am proud to say there was nothing but love 
 and good-will between them." 
 
 " I expected that, for Roy is a kind, forgiving 
 creature," she answered. " He always said Will 
 would be sorry for blaming him about that weary 
 boat name." 
 
 "Did Will blame him?" 
 
 "Maybe not, in so many words; but he never 
 contradicted those who did blame Roy. Now Roy 
 would have dared anyone to put the deed on his 
 brother. He would have stood by Will, shoulder
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 119 
 
 to shoulder. Poor Roy is too noble and too gen- 
 erous for this world ! " 
 
 Brodick looked at his daughter in astonishment, 
 but he made no reply. Was there any use answer- 
 ing a love-sick girl, either according to her folly, 
 or against it? No, such cases are beyond reason- 
 able interference. But there is a guidance for each 
 and all, and Brodick knew that by low listening he 
 would hear the right word, at the right hour. And 
 perhaps Annie's unreasonable love had its own mes- 
 sage, for in spite of all our ' New Thought ' and 
 miraculous * Progress ' it takes a soul to save a soul, 
 as it did in the days gone by. 
 
 For a few weeks Will seemed to have a good 
 influence over his brother. Roy had become shabby 
 and down at heels, and Will loaned him twenty 
 pounds, and sent him to Glasgow to buy clothing 
 suitable for the season. " You will lose both your 
 love and your money, Will," said Mrs. Lochrigg. 
 " Roy was learning a lesson he sorely needed, why 
 did you hinder it? If I had thought a new suit 
 would help the lad, you might have been sure he 
 would have had it, but I thought different." 
 
 " Yet perhaps it will help. I have known a lot 
 o' strength and hope come into a man's heart with a 
 suit o' good tweed cloth. And I liked to put it on
 
 I2O The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Roy. He is my brother; what he requires and I 
 have is, in a way, his right. I am going to take a 
 place in Creighton's sail factory, and I am trying to 
 get Roy to go with me ; but he thinks it a downcome, 
 and he says Annie thinks the same, and would be 
 fairly angered at him." 
 
 " What for are you doing the like o' that your- 
 self, Will? I am not sure you are right." 
 
 " I think I am. When I first spoke to McBrine 
 about a long voyage, I rented my fishing boat for a 
 year to John Ballantyne. He would willingly give 
 me a place in her, but when I think of it, I know that 
 would not do. There would be owner and master 
 both on her. I would feel in a wrong position, and 
 Ballantyne would be still further out o' the way. 
 Yet I cannot sit idle, till McBrine has another 
 chance for me, and Creighton has offered me two 
 pounds a week. I shall take that, till better ways 
 and wages turn up." 
 
 " That is good sense, and good luck follows good 
 sense. If you could get Roy to go with you " 
 
 " He will not. I have said all I can. And he 
 declares Annie stands by him." 
 
 " I am doubting that. Annie BrodicK isn't with- 
 out sense, and she loves money. She would take up 
 your parable, not Roy's."
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 121 
 
 " He looks very handsome in his new clothes. He 
 is a lad to be proud of, Aunt." 
 
 " I wish he had less pride, and I think if Annie 
 does not like him going to Creighton's she might 
 get her father to help him some way or other." 
 
 " Roy feels that. He has another scheme in his 
 head now, and I am feared both you and I will have 
 to say * No ' to him. It is utterly and beyond 
 all argument, unfeasible; a money dream, that is 
 all." 
 
 "A dream I What is it?" 
 
 " He wants us to supply the capital for a ship- 
 chandler's shop in Glasgow. I am to manage the 
 business, and Roy will keep the books, and beat up 
 customers. He knows a few captains, and so he 
 thinks his personal influence would do a deal." 
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg laughed scorn-fully. " I would 
 not trust a bawbee in such a silly scheme. That's 
 a dream, sure enough ! " she answered. 
 
 " Yet he is working like one possessed o'er the es- 
 timates, the outlay, and profits, and such like. He 
 is calculating, as he thinks, to the last halfpenny; 
 and you would fairly wonder to see the work he is 
 putting on the papers the beautiful writing, and 
 figuring, and rulings in red ink, and every paper 
 tied wi' pink or blue tape. He will be showing them
 
 122 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 to you anon. Aunt, you be to speak him kindly, he 
 is so sure you will help him." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I have done all that I can to discourage him. I 
 have counted up the price o' rents and other out- 
 lays, and his answer is always a sort o' triumphant 
 flourish o' the papers, and an assurance that * all 
 the expenses are set down and accounted for; and 
 the profits mair than able for them.' What will we 
 do wi' the lad? My heart aches for him." 
 
 " How much money is he wanting? " 
 
 " A thousand pounds." 
 
 " A thousand pounds ! What sploring nonsense ! 
 I would be mad entirely if I listened to him." 
 
 " He has the opinion that I simply picked up siller 
 in New York; many folks have that idea of New 
 York and he wants me to advance three hundred 
 pounds. He is counting on you for three hundred, 
 and on the Deacon for four hundred." 
 
 " The born idiot ! I cannot make mysel' believe 
 in such daftness. Are you joking with me, Will?" 
 
 " It is the naked truth." 
 
 " Don't let him come to me. Tell him I'll not 
 stand one halfpenny for such a parfectly crazy proj- 
 ect. And I know Robert Brodick will not listen to 
 him. He will maybe give a mouthful o' good ad-
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 123 
 
 vice, but that will be the length o' his help. What 
 about yoursel', Will?" 
 
 " I cannot lend what I do not possess. I am not 
 worth three hundred pounds, but even if I had the 
 money, I would not help Roy to put himself in such 
 a position; and I would not be a partner in it, for 
 all the gold in Glasgow. Oh, I could not, Aunt I I 
 could not do business on other people's money." 
 
 This conversation is sufficient to explain Roy's 
 position after he had been heartened, and encour- 
 aged by his brother's loan, and his hopes of Will's 
 further assistance. For some time his scheme 
 however absurd made him happy. His sanguine 
 opinions of his personal merits made success seem 
 easy and inevitable. If Will led the way, his aunt 
 would follow, and then Brodick couldn't, for his 
 own sake, refuse to do his share. Why, every decent 
 person in the Kirk, and out of it, would cry shame 
 on his niggard temper if he did not give his own 
 daughter's husband-to-be a helping hand. So he 
 flattered himself, for so he believed. 
 
 In this dream he passed his days, laying the most 
 elaborate plans for financing and managing the pro- 
 posed enterprise; never once reflecting that he knew 
 nothing practically of a ship's requirements. But 
 Will's ready taking up the trade of sail-making,
 
 124 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 had set his imagination to work. If Will knew 
 about sails, he must also know about ropes, and 
 cables, and anchors, and all other necessities. And 
 also, there were catalogues and books without end, 
 prepared specially for buyers by those who knew 
 exactly what a ship-chandler's shop should contain. 
 
 It was all so plain and reasonable to Roy, so ut- 
 terly foolish to every one else. And as soon as he 
 began to put his plans to the test he had to listen to 
 some unpleasant truths. The Deacon told him 
 plainly " his scheme was dishonest in its funda- 
 mentals, for that he himself risked nothing." Roy 
 reminded him that he risked his time and his labor, 
 and after a very scornful, ill-tempered discussion, the 
 Deacon unadvisedly called him "a fool," upon which 
 Roy in a blaze of passion answered: 
 
 " I have known many kinds of fools, Deacon, and 
 there is one very silly kind up your own sleeve, in 
 this particular case." 
 
 " Sir, I'll request you to take yourseP and your 
 fatuous, ridiculous, dishonorable plans out o' my 
 decent store ! " retorted the Deacon. He was white 
 and stern with anger, to which mood Roy was so 
 oblivious that he answered his demand with a pro- 
 voking laugh, and a last advice to the Deacon to 
 " take a big share in the * fatuous, ridiculous, dis-
 
 The Gate of Sorrow '125 
 
 honorable plan ' lest he should live to fret himself 
 o'er his stupidity." 
 
 He went straight from the Deacon to Mrs. Loch- 
 rigg, for he felt sure if he did not, Brodick would 
 hasten to prejudice her against him. She had told 
 Will that if Roy came to her with such like fool- 
 ishness, she would quickly send him to the right 
 about. 
 
 The young man compelled her to listen to 
 him, but it was with a face full of dissent, frequent 
 ejaculations of " Im-phm! Im-phm!" and a pecu- 
 liar tit-titting on her brow with her finger. 
 
 " You see, Aunt," he argued, " a man can do noth- 
 ing in a little place like this." 
 
 " The place is o'er big for you." 
 
 " In Glasgow he has a thousand chances." 
 
 " Glasgow is the city o' Human Power. It 
 would crush a man without a bawbee to dust under 
 its feet." 
 
 " Not Royden Morrison. He is not to be crushed. 
 If he was, he wouldn't be here, after the fight he 
 has just had wi' Deacon Brodick." 
 
 "Im-phm! Two hundred years ago some one 
 thought o' harnessing a flock o' geese for a trip to 
 the moon. They could not manage it. Your scheme 
 is just about as sensible."
 
 126 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " I was saying I had had a fight wi' Deacon 
 Brodick the mean body that he is! I'll not for- 
 get his damned unpleasant manner, and his uncivil 
 words." 
 
 " You will forget how to swear in my house, Roy. 
 The Deacon is a wise man; if he gave you his ad- 
 vice, I counsel you to take it." 
 
 "He is a greedy man, he would not part with 
 the smoke from his porridge if he could help it. I 
 am thankful to say, I gave him a little o' my advice. 
 I told him that he had a daughter, if whiles he 
 would remember the fact, and that a man who tries 
 to save both his siller and his soul, sets himself a 
 job beyond his management. Oh, I gave him as 
 good as he sent ! " 
 
 " I have no doubt of it, and in so doing you 
 proved yoursel' a fool twice over." 
 
 " If I had brought him some careless, ill-finished 
 plan, he might have swithered, and delayed; but I 
 defy any one in Glasgow, or out o' Glasgow, to have 
 offered a better or more correctly prepared synopsis 
 of income and expenditure. It was in itsel' a clear 
 title to success." 
 
 " Roy, you are blinded by your own proud imagin- 
 ations. And I notice that you always found it easy 
 to read your title clear to everything you wanted. I
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 127 
 
 am feared your ideas would end in something not 
 unlike thievery." 
 
 "Thievery! I scorn the word! It is a matter 
 of business. Thievery indeed! Aunt, what do you 
 mean by such a word?" 
 
 " God's sake, lad, you are surely demented! " and 
 she looked straight at him with the wonderful, char- 
 acter-reading eyes of the Scotch peasant. " It is a 
 sickening bit o' business. Go away, Roy, and get a 
 cast of the world, and you'll find out then what 
 miracles o' folly you were expecting from all who 
 cared for you." 
 
 " Go away ? Well, what if I do ? " 
 
 "Yes, as you say what if you do?" 
 
 " There is Annie." 
 
 " As you say there is Annie." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You and her for it. Settle the matter between 
 you." 
 
 " I see. At the last, and the long, you refuse to 
 help me." 
 
 " Exactly. Anybody that cared a bodle for you, 
 would refuse. Before you knew how, or wherefore, 
 you would be neck deep in debt, maybe debt you 
 couldn't explain to suit the comprehension o 1 credi- 
 tors; and then it would be the bottomless pit of some
 
 128 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 lawyer's consulting room, and perhaps worse places 
 for your friends." 
 
 " Dagon you and your money I I'm glad to know, 
 Aunt, how much of your love I have." 
 
 " Keep a civil tongue in your mouth." 
 
 " Selfish folk ought to live by themselves." 
 
 " I think so too. There is going to be an alter- 
 ation in my house, and that you'll see, and find out. 
 I trow, you are an ungrateful cad! I have been a 
 mother to you for twenty-five years, but remember! 
 you can go too far ! yes, you can go too far I " 
 
 " Take care! Take care! " said Roy's soul 
 within him, and Roy knew that he was on the verge 
 of " too far." 
 
 " The parish has been sizing you up lately, my 
 lad," Mrs. Lochrigg continued, " and I heard one 
 woman say the other day, as you passed her, ' Poor 
 beggar ! everything goes wrong with him I ' Is that 
 the kind o' reputation you want ? " 
 
 " It's a shame, Aunt ! It isn't my fault. I have 
 done all I could. My luck is against me, and you, 
 that have always stood by me like a mother, are now 
 ready to turn me out o' house and home though 
 you know well I have not a place, forbye your house, 
 in which to lay my head." 
 
 The woman's heart was aching with sorrowful
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 129 
 
 love, as he spoke. She longed to take him in her 
 arms, and comfort him, as she had done all his life. 
 She was making excuse upon excuse, even as she sat 
 speechless. And when Roy came close to her, and 
 took her hands, and laid his face against hers, and 
 said " Kiss me, Aunt, kiss me, Mammy!" she burst 
 into passionate weeping, and let him make all the 
 excuses he wanted. 
 
 Yes, she finally began to blame others. She 
 " wondered at Deacon Brodick not helping an hon- 
 est lad, trying to do his best he might at least have 
 been more considerate and Annie was not doing 
 what might well be expectit o' her why did she not 
 try, and better try, till she got round the old man? 
 He was always said to be gey fond o' his daughter, 
 why did he not give her a house o' her own, and the 
 lad she loved? what was siller for, but to make hap- 
 piness? " and so on. 
 
 The questions were wet with tears, but they did 
 not comfort Roy, for instead of offering him money, 
 she advised him to go with his brother to Creighton's 
 for a few weeks. " Do that," she said, " and I 
 will write to my Uncle David Home, and ask him 
 to find some suitable outgait for you, Roy. David is 
 a man of some consideration in Edinburgh, and 
 though we have not been very good friends for a
 
 [130 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 few years, he loves me, and he'll do what I ask 
 him to do." 
 
 " I would like to go to Edinburgh, Aunt. I 
 would marry Annie, and carry her away wi' me to 
 Edinburgh, and the Deacon should never get sight 
 nor sound o' her again, if I could help it. Oh, Aunt, 
 there is none like you ! I love you best of all I " 
 Then he complained that he was worn out, and felt 
 like to faint with trouble and disappointment, and 
 she rose in a hurry and fried him a rasher and a 
 couple of eggs, and made him a cup of refreshment 
 out of the black tea pot, which Roy, at this hour, 
 thankfully accepted. And they were closer and 
 dearer than they had been for months 
 
 " So blessings on the falling out 
 That all the more endears 
 When we fall out with those we love 
 And kiss again with tears." 
 
 After this reconciliation Mrs. Lochrigg would 
 listen to nothing against Royden Morrison. The 
 Deacon called that evening to talk the matter over 
 with her, and she treated the subject with a sorrow- 
 ful sympathy beyond his understanding. " Yes," 
 she said, " the poor lad showed me his papers, and 
 told me his plans. I think all they wanted was the 
 money to carry them out. It makes me down-
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 131 
 
 hearted to see so much good work flung to the Back 
 o' Beyond. I've no doubt," she continued, " that 
 there are plenty o' good men in Glasgow that would 
 snap up Roy's business ideas if they only knew o* 
 them; for the lad has a wonderful business gift, if he 
 wasn't so crampit for ready siller " then seeing the 
 question in Brodick's eyes, she forestalled it by a deep 
 sigh, and a " thousand pities and regrets, that all 
 her property was tied fast by the late Captain Loch- 
 rigg's o'er careful thought o' her welfare ; and good- 
 ness knows," she added, " all my own siller to the 
 last sixpence is needful in this house, to make 
 buckle and belt meet. But oh I'm sorry for the poor 
 lad ! He is a good lad going to the mischief for the 
 want o' a friend, who could give him steady work 
 and wage." 
 
 The Deacon was powerless and speechless against 
 such an attitude, and he went home much earlier 
 than he intended; and she sent the servant lass to 
 the door with him, instead of seeing him o'er the 
 steps herself, her usual custom. It was a bitter ex- 
 perience to Brodick, and his anger was not to look 
 for. It spoke in the passionate flings of his stick, 
 and in every stamp of his broad feet. He felt that 
 he had been unjustly treated, and for a young man 
 undeserving of his favor, and who had, in a manner,
 
 132 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 forced himself into his life. And when he reached 
 home, Annie, with an ostentatious air of injury, told 
 Roy he must go away, and then lingered with him at 
 the door, until her father angrily bade her " Come 
 out o' the cold sea wind, unless she wanted to get the 
 pneumonia and go to her grave," which alternative 
 she hopelessly accepted, as " better than the weary 
 life she had to dree." 
 
 It was an altogether miserable situation, and no 
 one appeared to have the will or the courage to bring 
 to frank explanation its worst elements, and so con- 
 quer, or at least control them. So the trouble grew, 
 and grew, and at length in one fateful hour passed 
 with Roy through the Brodicks' open door, and sat 
 down upon their hearthstone. It was a stormy night 
 nearing the New Year. The Deacon had gone to 
 the Kirk, and Annie had given to the ancient house- 
 place a cheerful air of cozy beauty. The fire danced 
 and blazed on the white hearth, on the ivory-like 
 deal furniture, on the gayly patched cushions, and 
 pretty crockery, on the flowering plants in the 
 window, and the colored pictures on the white 
 walls. 
 
 And there was no picture in the room fair as her- 
 self, as she stood listening to catch the sound of her 
 lover's coming. She had dressed with care and taste,
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 133 
 
 and seemed to be in some enchanting haze of white 
 and color of bluebells. It was only pretty ribbons 
 and some woven lace, but it had the touch and the 
 effect of genius in its arrangement. Outside, it was 
 snowing and blowing, but she knew Roy would not 
 fail her, and she resolved that on this evening no 
 disagreeable subject should be named. They would 
 be lovers only, and the world and the care o' it, 
 should not come into their thoughts at all. 
 
 As the clock struck seven Roy came in, out of the 
 storm, laughing and shaking the frozen snow out of 
 his black curls. He threw off his plaid, took Annie 
 in a loving embrace, and then snuggled comfortably 
 down among the cushions of the big chair she had 
 placed on the hearth for him. A little table was 
 spread with some dainties of Annie's own preparing, 
 and he ate heartily, and as he did so told Annie the 
 particulars of a trip to Glasgow from which he had 
 just returned. For nearly three hours the evening 
 was all that Annie had hoped and expected it to be. 
 Then something happened. That inner self, which 
 is so often foolish, and really inimical to us, put a 
 thought too strong for Roy's resistance into his mind, 
 and with the thought there came an almost overpow- 
 ering impulse to carry it out. 
 
 Now this particular thought Ray had distinctly
 
 134 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 resolved should be shared with no one not event 
 Annie. In talking to himself that is, to his inner 
 self he had advanced sufficient reasons for keeping 
 the circumstances an absolute secret. Yet all through 
 the sweet converse of the evening, he had felt the 
 urging of this unknown companion to tell Annie. It 
 had whispered continually, " Tell Annie. Why 
 not?" So at last he rose, and said: 
 
 " I must away now, Annie; it is best to go before 
 our happy evening gets a set-back; and your father 
 will be home at elder's hours, and of course have 
 something unpleasant to remark." Then how it 
 came about, no human reasoning- may explain, but 
 against desire, and without intention, .the words he 
 should not have uttered, were spoken: 
 
 " I must tell you a strange thing I have found out, 
 about my brother Will." 
 
 Annie lifted a face suddenly full of apprehension, 
 and at the same moment both felt the chill that ac- 
 companies ill-omened words. Roy wished with all 
 his heart he had been miles away, and Annie was 
 aware of the oncoming of some trouble it was too 
 late to avert. Her soul was strangely disquieted 
 within her, and she was seized with an imperative 
 desire to see, and to know, whatever she had to face. 
 "What have you found out, Roy?" she asked, and
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 135 
 
 her voice was cold and constrained, as she added, 
 " Nothing wrong. I am sure of that." 
 
 " That is, as you take it, Annie. I think it is 
 wrong for a man to be scheming and making plans 
 for his own particular selfish interest, by the side of 
 his kinfolk, and as it were at his own fireside." 
 
 " Speak plainly. I am not understanding." 
 
 "Whatever is the matter with you, Annie?" 
 
 " Tell me what there is to tell, Roy. I am not 
 believing there can be much out of the way." 
 
 " It is just this. Will has been seeking a position 
 on one, or any, of McBrine's ships." 
 
 " That is well known." 
 
 " It was talked of when Will first came home, but 
 I have been made to understand lately that he would 
 stay at Creighton's until something was arranged 
 that would suit me, as well as himself." 
 
 " Did Will promise you that? You never told 
 
 me so." 
 
 " Not in so many set words, but I understood, 
 plain as daylight, that that was how affairs were to 
 be arranged. No doubt, because of this understand- 
 ing, he was trying to keep all his movements secret, 
 then when all was ready, he would have slipped away 
 some night, without a thought o' me. However, I 
 found out what he was after, and that in a rather
 
 136 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 unusual way indeed it fairly looked like a Provi- 
 dence." 
 
 "What are you beating around the bush for? 
 Speak plainly, Roy." 
 
 " Well then, I went into Lucky Hislop's and she 
 gave me a letter that had come by the morning's 
 mail. She thought it was mine, but it was not mine, 
 it was for Will. The doited auld wife is losing her 
 sight. She isn't fit to handle folk's letters, I'm sure 
 of that." 
 
 " But surely, surely, you did not open Will's 
 letter! You would never do a thing like that! It 
 is not to be believed." 
 
 " I was not noticing the direction very clearly." 
 
 "When did you get this letter, Roy?" 
 
 " Oh, it is a week or more, since ! " 
 
 "My God!" 
 
 "Well then, what's the matter wi* you?" 
 
 " You never said a word about it, before." 
 
 " And I am sorry I said a word the now. What 
 for are you looking at me in that way? Your eyes 
 are like two pistols." 
 
 " I was wondering I was wondering " she 
 ceased speaking, for Roy had taken a letter from 
 his pocket, and was offering it to her. 
 
 " Read that," he said.
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 137 
 
 "Is it Will's letter?" 
 
 " Yes, it is Will's letter. Read it, then you will 
 see what the sneak has been planning, never saying 
 a word to me, or to kin or friend either." 
 
 She drew back in disdain and anger. " I would 
 not touch it," she said, " for all the gold in Arran. 
 Roy, Roy, you have no right, not the shadow of 
 right, with that letter. It is downright theft to have 
 it in your pocket. You are wronging your brother 
 shamefully, every moment you keep it from him. 
 Go to him at once. Make what plea you can for 
 the wicked deed you have done. Oh, Roy! Oh, 
 Roy ! I cannot believe it I I cannot bear it ! " 
 
 " Parfect nonsense! What are you crying about? 
 A poor wife you would make for any man, if he 
 could tell you nothing but what everybody might 
 know! The letter came to me in the regular way. 
 It was, as I said before, a kind o' Providence, for it 
 has let me into Will Morrison's secrets." 
 
 * You are a bold sinner to dare to lay such a 
 mean, contemptible act on Providence. More likely 
 it was some devil's work. Anyhow, I will not listen 
 to your charging Providence with your own low, 
 slinking sin. I will not." 
 
 " ' Will ' and * will not ' are for men to say, such 
 words are not for women folk. Keep that in your
 
 138 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 mind, if you can. I tell you, I will read any letter 
 I like to read. How was I to know, when Lucky 
 Hislop put the paper in my hand, that it was not 
 mine? " 
 
 " I suppose Will Morrison's name was on the 
 outside of it." 
 
 " Yes, it was. ' Mr. William Morrison ' was 
 sprawling from one side to the other. But what of 
 that? I wasn't taking particular notice of the out- 
 side o* the letter. I saw ' Morrison ' plain enough 
 outside, but it was the inside I was interested in. 
 Anybody might have done the very same thing." 
 
 " Say that much. Yet after you had read a line 
 or two, you must have known that it was not your 
 letter. Then, no doubt, you looked well at^the out- 
 side of it." 
 
 " Say that much, and what do you make o' that? " 
 
 " I make this that you knew, mostly at once, 
 that you held in your hand what was not yours, in 
 any sense. Then you ought to have gone straight- 
 way to your brother and said, ' Will, I opened this 
 letter by mistake, but I have read no more of it 
 than let me know it did not belong to me. I hope 
 you will excuse me, and poor Lucky Hislop as 
 well.' " 
 
 " Such stupendous folly ! I would just like to see
 
 The Gate of Sorrow 139 
 
 Royden Morrison making a talk, and a wonderment 
 o' himself, for a screed o' paper." 
 
 " It comes to this you can give up the letter 
 or you can give up Annie Brodick. I will not put 
 my hand in your hand again until you have made 
 it clean to your brother Will." 
 
 " You are caring a deal for my brother Will. I 
 am thinking he ought to be in my place. Give him 
 the letter yourself. There it is 1 " and he flung it 
 on the table with great passion. 
 
 " I will not black my hand with it and you will 
 make your own excuses, and seek your own dis- 
 charge from the shame and the blame of such a dirty 
 bit of business. I am not sure but what keeping a 
 letter, not your own, is an actionable offence; it 
 ought to be, I know that." 
 
 " And so you are going to fling me over for Will's 
 letter ! I have been long thinking you were not car- 
 ing for me." 
 
 " You know you are lying now. I have told you 
 this night that I love you better than all the world, 
 and you know well that I would not say them words 
 unless they came warm from my heart. But it is 
 the man I thought you, that I love. I could not love 
 I would not dare to love, a lad that would open 
 and read a letter that was not his ay, and then keep
 
 140 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 it for a whole seven days afterwards. So, Roy, lis- 
 ten to me. You must go straight to your brother, 
 this very minute, late as it is, and give him what be- 
 longs to him, with all proper regret for your un- 
 worthy conduct. If you don't do this, and all of it, 
 you may count every word between you and me un- 
 said, and unredeemable." 
 
 "You are not in earnest, surely, Annie?" 
 " As sure as death, I am in earnest." 
 " Well, I cannot give you up. I would far rather 
 make a born idiot o' myself. So, I will go to Will, 
 and do what you bid me. You are an unfeeling lass 
 to put the lad who loves you through such a humili- 
 ation. But I'll go to Will. I know he will just 
 laugh at the whole circumstance. He'll laugh at me 
 too, but it is little you care for that." 
 
 " Oh, Roy! I want you to do right. I want you 
 to do right." 
 
 " I have said I would do what you told me to do." 
 Then he passionately kicked a chair out of his way, 
 and lifting his cap and plaid, left the house without 
 a word to the woman who stood so white and sor- 
 rowful, watching his furious departure.
 
 CHAPTER SEVEN 
 
 ROY ACCUSES HIMSELF 
 
 As a bird flies to its nest at the sudden breaking of 
 the storm, so Annie flew to her room, when she 
 heard the clash of the garden gate. She forgot the 
 unlocked door, the blazing fire, the burning candle, 
 and when the Deacon returned ten minutes later, 
 he was momentarily shocked by such extravagant 
 carelessness. With some temper he covered the fire, 
 and locked the door, then lifting the swaling, flutter- 
 ing candle, he went to the foot of the stairs and 
 called "Annie!" in no undecided tones. She did 
 not answer instantly, for her mind was so over- 
 whelmed in its own grief that her father's voice 
 seemed far off and irrelative. He called again, and 
 still she could not quite compel the necessary atten- 
 tion. Then she heard his step upon the stair, and 
 she went to the door and turned the key. 
 
 " Are you within, Annie ? " 
 
 "Yes, father." 
 
 "What for did you go to bed and leave the 
 door undone, and fire and candle wasting? I am 
 fairly astonished at your carelessness.'* 
 
 141
 
 142 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "I was 'suffering very much, father." 
 
 " But you might have called up the lass if you 
 were not able to put things as they ought to be." 
 
 " Father, I had all I could do to reach my room." 
 
 "Can I get you anything?" 
 
 " I have all I want, father. I know well what to 
 do when I am in trouble of any kind." 
 
 " Weel, if you get no better, call me, and I'll 
 go for the medical man; though Doctor McFarlane 
 is fearsome angry if he is called at night and 
 charging for it, too." 
 
 " I'm not requiring McFarlane. I'll do better 
 wanting him. Just leave me to myself, father. I'll 
 be fit enough by morning." 
 
 " God help and bless you, Annie ! " 
 
 He went away with the blessing on his lips, and 
 then returned to the house-place, and began to look 
 around for his usual bread and cheese and glass of 
 milk. Annie had forgotten them. " It is easy to 
 say who has been here," he muttered. " Only Roy 
 Morrison could make her forget me, and it is most 
 humiliating to be put o' mind for the like o' that 
 ne'er-do-well. And if I am any judge o' women- 
 folk, there has been a quarrel between him and 
 Annie and the poor lass is heart and soul sick. 
 That is the way o' this business. I am seeing it
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 143 
 
 all clearly, ay, and feeling it likewise a month or 
 two on tlie treadmill would be a good thing for the 
 lazy, lying scoundrel. God forgive me! I'm mak- 
 ing myself jury and judge baith. Keep your castle, 
 Robert Brodick! There's an enemy at your gates." 
 
 These sentiments, mingled with verses of warn- 
 ing and encouragement, disciplined the angry father 
 until he fell asleep under their influence, and his 
 soul went to that lowest chamber of being in which 
 there is always a romance and a mystery the won- 
 derful mystery of dreams the unfolding and the 
 enlightenment of which cannot come in any other 
 way, because for it, words however wise would 
 be impotent things. 
 
 So the man slept, while his nobler part was in the 
 School of Dreams, and the woman sat tearless and 
 dumb with hands clasped upon her knees. There 
 was no thought of sleep in Annie's eyes, they were 
 fixed and wide open, and without the shadow of 
 tears. She was not a girl ready to weep. She hardly 
 remembered any occasion when she had done so. 
 A kind of Spartan self-control had been the law of 
 her childhood, and even at this bitter hour she sought 
 not the relief of tears. Neither did the oppression 
 on her heart drive her into restlessness and move- 
 ment; she could not, as many do, walk with sorrow
 
 144 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 until the weary body compelled surcease in sleep. On 
 the contrary, she sat motionless in the light of the 
 waning moon, while all the waves and the billows 
 of Grief's illimitable sea went over her. She was 
 dumb, and made neither prayer nor complaint, for 
 she was stupefied by the sudden, unequivocal revela- 
 tion of her lover's utter lack of moral sensibility. 
 Roy had committed a crime, and was indifferent to 
 the turpitude of the act; and to Annie, this spiritual 
 apathy was an abdication of his spiritual inheritance. 
 
 If he had expressed any regret, however feeble, 
 she could have hoped and endeavored, but at this 
 hour there was no hope, no endeavor, no extenua- 
 tion possible. Therefore, her distress was stifled, 
 dark, void, and unimpassioned, and found no natural 
 outlet in prayers, or tears, or in future probabilities. 
 All earth was black, and all heaven blind; she had 
 wilfully chosen a lover without virtue, honor, or 
 rectitude, and so, she feared, forfeited all claim upon 
 spiritual help or interference. For as yet she had 
 not found out that God is the only refuge for women 
 who have loved unworthily, and that He waits in 
 eternal patience their hour of need. 
 
 So she was desperately miserable. She could only 
 suffer. She had indeed satisfied her conscience, but 
 her heart was cold and comfortless. She had done
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 145 
 
 her duty, but love was sorely wounded, even unto 
 death. Nature, too, seemed hostile; the snow had 
 ceased, but the night was bitterly cold, and agitated 
 by a ghostly wind. Nevertheless, joyful or sorrow- 
 ful, the hours go by, and at last the dawning made 
 its noiseless entrance. Then, the cold grey light, 
 the angry clouds covering the sky, and leaving no 
 door open into heaven; the weight of the slow, 
 steady, monotonous rain was the very atmosphere 
 of her silent, hopeless sorrow. For she had resolved 
 to say nothing to her father until she knew whether 
 or not Roy had made his confession, and Will ac- 
 cepted it. 
 
 The Deacon was equally reticent. He felt quite 
 sure that Roy Morrison was the " because " of his 
 daughter's miserable appearance, but when Annie 
 said " she had the worst headache she ever had in 
 her life," he accepted her reason without question. 
 Indeed the girl's physical anguish was so apparent, 
 it called for the most loving sympathy, without any 
 " why " or " wherefore," and Brodick's heart was as 
 tender as it was strong. Annie knew this, and when 
 he drew her aching head against his breast with lov- 
 ing offers of help, his unmistakable affection almost 
 opened the Gate of Tears for her. One moment's 
 abandonment, and she would have confessed to the
 
 1146 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 fatherly heart on which she leaned, the uttermost of 
 her sorrow. 
 
 But this confidence was what she feared to make 
 just yet. She must know the best, and the worst of 
 the affair first. She must, if it was possible, seek 
 out some way of forgiveness which would satisfy her 
 conscience. But if her father knew the facts, as 
 they were at present, he would listen to no excuse; 
 he would say, " The man has confessed his guilt, he 
 has even gloried in it, what more is necessary?" 
 And disliking Roy, as he did, he would be a hard 
 judge, yes, a very hard judge. So she resolved for 
 the next three days to conceal her anxiety, to assume 
 her usual interest in daily life, and even pay extra 
 attention to her father's comfort and conversation. 
 For she told herself, she must give Roy three days, 
 since Will might not be at home, or if so, not be 
 able at once to look over the injury done him. 
 
 But this was only respite of grief, its cure could 
 not grow in such a bounded field; and in the inter- 
 vals of her father's absence, and in the long, woe- 
 some hours of the nights, the restrained suffering 
 flowed . back upon her heart with overwhelming 
 power, and presentiment of evil. Two alternate 
 fears tormented her; first, that Roy had not kept 
 his promise to give Will the letter which belonged
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 147 
 
 to him. She had told him to go that very hour to 
 his brother and ask his forgiveness, and she believed 
 if Roy had done this, he would have come to her the 
 next evening to receive the praise he would consider 
 due him for his self-denying humiliation. But three 
 days passed, and Roy made no sign. Then she had 
 to face a certain necessity. She must either send for 
 Will Morrison, and herself tell him of the wrong 
 done, or she must trust her father with the mes- 
 sage. For by the end of the second day it had be- 
 come a crying urgency to reveal the matter her 
 conscience already accused her of a delay she would 
 not have granted to any other person, with the same 
 stress of restitution urging confession. 
 
 On the second day, the second doubt intruded on 
 the first. This was a fear that Roy, having given his 
 brother the letter belonging to him, had met with 
 something less than Will's habitual generosity, and 
 that either, because he had some dread of conse- 
 quences, or was deeply mortified at the shameful 
 acknowledgment he had been forced to make, the 
 offended man had set down against her the disgrace 
 of his own act. For Annie knew well that such a 
 result would not only be possible, but actually natural 
 to a moral intelligence as perverted and ineffectual 
 as that of her lover.
 
 148 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 On the third morning the Deacon had an un- 
 expected call to Loch Ranza, and Annie seeing his 
 hurry and preoccupation, could not wisely open a 
 subject so important. Perhaps she was relieved by 
 this favorable respite, for Roy would certainly hear 
 of the Deacon's absence, and so avail himself of the 
 opportunity but if not, then she would give up 
 hoping, and nothing should prevent her sending her 
 father to Will, immediately on his return the fol- 
 lowing day. Her dying trust seized eagerly this last, 
 frail hope, for she had suffered much from that cold 
 temptation which comes to the noblest hearts, when 
 virtue has failed to reward, and they are half-in- 
 clined to regret having served her when they say 
 with the great seer-singer, " In vain have I washed 
 my hands in innocency." 
 
 In the afternoon she walked down to her father's 
 shop, after assuring herself that the things she went 
 for were really needed, and that she had not in- 
 vented their requirement; yet she was consciously 
 aware that she might meet Roy in this way of duty 
 and requirement. She did not meet him, but she saw 
 him with his brother Will; they were coming from 
 Creighton's together, and they appeared to be on 
 their usual affectionate terms. Then she returned 
 home, and her heart was comparatively light. Roy
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 149 
 
 had confessed, and evidently been forgiven, and 
 sooner or later he would return to her. Uncon- 
 sciously, she could not, even yet, face life without 
 him. 
 
 About seven in the evening she was sitting alone, 
 considering what step would now be the right one 
 to take. If Roy had told his brother, and they were 
 friends, there did not seem to be any reason to 
 trouble the Deacon with the matter. It would be 
 kind and prudent to let it rest. Such silence could 
 hurt no one, on the contrary, discussion would cause 
 ill-temper and much evil speaking, lying and slan- 
 dering. This was Annie's honest decision, and it 
 was grateful to her. For she longed to bury the 
 fault, to forgive and to forget it, and take back 
 Roy to her tender mercy and her loving kindness. 
 
 Softened by such thoughts, she sat silent by the 
 fireside. She was neither watching nor expecting, 
 for as Roy had not come at once for her approval, 
 she judged he would not come for at least a month, 
 unless the holiday call should bring him to make all 
 clear and happy for the New Year. So far she had 
 gone in anticipation, when Roy stepped softly into 
 the room. He saw the swift change in Annie's face, 
 the splendid wave of color that came like sunlight 
 over her pale cheeks, the smile that transformed
 
 150 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 her as the sea is transformed by the dayspring, and 
 he knew that this added splendor of beauty had been 
 called forth by his presence. 
 
 "Weel, Annie! "he said. 
 
 "My dear Roy!" 
 
 " Will you give your dear Roy a welcome to- 
 night? You sent him away in a fine blaze o' temper.'* 
 
 Her soul was instantly on guard. The beating 
 of her heart was almost audible, but she was not to 
 be betrayed by its entreaties. Yet Roy saw in her 
 outstretched hands, her eager looks, her tender eyes, 
 the great affection with which he had inspired her, 
 as she answered: 
 
 " You are dearly welcome, welcome as life to me, 
 for I know you would not be here, if you had not 
 put the wrong right- and come to tell me so." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 "What did Will say?" 
 
 " He just made a laugh o' the whole business. I 
 told you he would. He said I wasn't to speak o' 
 the matter. He does not want his plans made free 
 to all and sundry, and I told him I hadn't named 
 the subject to a creature but you." 
 
 "Well then?" 
 
 " He said that words were as safe with you as 
 if they were stones dropped in the deep sea."
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 151: 
 
 " And, Roy, Roy, my dear lad, you are far happier 
 for telling Will?" 
 
 "Of course I am happier, because it puts you 
 and me right. The letter did not trouble me, but 
 I could not thole your feeling about it." 
 
 Then she went to him, and lifted the cap from his 
 head, and he took her in his arms, and their recon- 
 ciliation was complete. 
 
 " We will never name the unlucky bit o* paper 
 again," he said, and Annie was willing it should 
 pass into oblivion. A sweet content followed her 
 anxiety, and she told herself again that her influence 
 for good on Roy's character was now proved and 
 certain. An exceedingly happy evening followed. 
 Never had Roy been so loving and so charming, and 
 never had Annie been so beautiful and affectionate. 
 For three hours they sat looking into the future to- 
 gether, seeing nothing there but lifelong happiness, 
 and love everlasting. 
 
 In the midst of such happy thoughts sleep found 
 Annie, but where sleep took her, and to what stern 
 revealer, none may say. She opened her eyes at 
 the dawn with a sigh, and was immediately con- 
 scious of a strange depression. " It is the bad 
 weather," she thought as she went to her window 
 and saw the heavens and the earth full of a brood-
 
 152 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 ing storm. The dull sky darkened down to the edges 
 of a black sea, and the grey-sailed ships looked in 
 the thick mist like gigantic phantoms in winding 
 sheets. She turned shivering from the outlook, and 
 dressed quickly and without interest in her appear- 
 ance. Bodings of evil, unsanctioned by her will, 
 and having no root in apparent circumstances, 
 seemed to whisper her, she knew not what, of com- 
 ing evil. She was anxious without reason, restless, 
 indifferent to her duties, actually cross to the good- 
 natured servant girl, who tried to understand and 
 please her. 
 
 She was quite aware of her fault, and for a time 
 took a perverse kind of pleasure in letting temper 
 have its way with her, whatever she was doing. But 
 when feelings come from unsuspected causes, the 
 defendant is at a disadvantage, and doubtless Annie's 
 inexplicable moods were the outcome of painful, un- 
 remembered dreams, which sleep after sinking her 
 far below its ordinary tide, had given her during 
 the past night, since 
 
 " From the soul's subterranean depth upborne, 
 As from an infinitely distant land, 
 
 Come airs and floating echoes, and convey 
 A melancholy into all our day." 
 
 MATTHEW ARNOLD.' 
 
 About noon she endeavored to put down the climb-
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 153 
 
 ing fears of unreasonable anxiety. "I am a selfish 
 girl," she thought, " letting I don't know what ruin 
 the whole day. I wish father would win home. And 
 I pray God the storm does not catch him among the 
 mountains." 
 
 This thought released her from personal interests, 
 she began to think of others, and was instantly more 
 cheerful. It was a cruelly cold afternoon; the wind 
 cried drearily, and the black winter sea made a 
 solemn roaring on the foggy beach. So she built up 
 the fire, and kept the kettle boiling, and filled the 
 room with the glowing warmth and light of the 
 blazing coals. 
 
 She expected her father about two o'clock, but 
 it was quite three when she saw him coming very 
 slowly up the hill. Timothy Buchan walked at 
 his side, and Annie noticed even before they 
 reached the house the anger in her father's face 
 and manner, and the air of solicitude with which 
 Buchan regarded him. At the gate Brodick put a 
 crown into Buchan's hand, and said, " Thank you, 
 Tim. You did me a good turn. I'll not be forget- 
 ting it." 
 
 "I am owing you many god turns, Deacon. I'm 
 not forgetting them." 
 
 During this pause Annie stood looking at her
 
 154 Tfie Hands of Compulsion 
 
 father with distress and astonishment. His massive 
 form was radiating wrath, and the stormy look in his 
 eyes, and the suppressed passion in his close-drawn 
 lips and lowering brow, frightened her. He was also 
 deathly pale, and there was a streak of blood down 
 the white linen of his shirt front. At the house door 
 he looked at her with a passionate pity, and passed 
 through it without a word. She turned in after him, 
 her heart sinking and sick, and looked into his face 
 with a silence full of inquiry. But as it brought 
 her no answer, she asked, " Have I done anything to 
 anger you, father? Why don't you speak to me?" 
 
 " Sit down, Annie, I have bad news for you. I 
 am not angry at you, in particular, but I am sorely 
 angry at you in the general. For you have brought 
 this sorrow on yoursel', by your ain free choice and 
 will, and against the choice and will o' a father that 
 was wiser than you, and who loved you with a love 
 that had no selfishness in it." 
 
 " I am understanding well enough that all these 
 words mean something against poor Roy. Folks will 
 not let the lad alone." 
 
 "Roy should let alone what he had nothing to do 
 with. Let me tell you, there is more trouble in the 
 village than words can sort. I have had to put my 
 ain body between Will and Roy Morrison, or Will
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 155 
 
 would have thrashed his brother soundly and weel 
 he deserves it." 
 
 Annie did not utter a word. Her eyes were 
 dropped; she seated herself in a chair beside the table, 
 and her father noticed that she grasped the edge for 
 further support. He watched her for a moment and 
 then continued 
 
 " What do you think, Annie, o' a man who opens 
 a letter, not his, and then keeps it all o' ten days, 
 without saying word or witten about it?" 
 
 " Who has done the like o' that? " 
 
 " Roy Morrison has done it." 
 
 " How do folks know the truth o' such a charge ? 
 Is there not some mistake? Oh, father father!" 
 
 " There is no mistake, Annie. Lucky Hislop 
 gave it to Roy. It was from the McBrines o* Glas- 
 gow, it was closed with their big seal, that has a ship 
 in full sail on it. Lucky saw the name Morrison on 
 the letter, and Roy happened in on the minute, and 
 she asked if it was for him, and he said, * Thank you, 
 Lucky, it is all right,' and so went awa' with it. And 
 it was all wrong, for the letter was Will's letter, and 
 Roy must have known that as soon as he opened it 
 if not before." 
 
 "Well, then?" 
 
 "No, it is not well, it is bad as can be. Will
 
 156 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 has lost the position he was seeking and it is a 
 big loss one that may cripple the lad's whole 
 life." 
 
 " How did Will find all this out? " 
 
 For a moment the Deacon did not answer. His 
 eyes were fixed on his child. Her face was white as 
 death, and the few words which framed her ques- 
 tion were shivered from between her lips, rather than 
 spoken. He laid his hand on the trembling one, 
 which had fallen from its grasp of the table, and 
 asked 
 
 "Annie, my dear lass, do you want me to stop tell- 
 ing you?" 
 
 " No ! No ! " she cried with a sudden agonizing 
 sob" tell me the last, and the worst o' it." 
 
 *' It was this way, then. This morning Will got a 
 letter from the McBrines saying, ' that as he had not 
 accepted their proposal, they concluded it was not 
 satisfactory, and had made other arrangements'; 
 they spoke of waiting eight days for his reply, and 
 regretted * he had not thought it worth his while to 
 say, " yes " or " no " to their offer.' And nothing will 
 put that bit o' neglect right. It shuts McBrine's 
 door in Will's face forever. I'll stop, if you want 
 me to, Annie." 
 
 " Go on go on."
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 157 
 
 " As soon as Will read this letter he went in a pas- 
 sion to poor Lucky, and she cried, and told him she 
 had given that very letter to his brother Roy ten days 
 syne, and ' Surely, man,' she cried, * it was safe in 
 your ain brother's hand.' Then, as ill-luck would 
 have it, Roy passed her door, and she called him in 
 and reminded him of it." 
 
 " And and what did Roy say? Oh, father " 
 
 " Roy denied all about the letter. He said he 
 never saw a letter for Will, and Lucky got to scream- 
 ing, and the two lads to words, and ill-words, and 
 then to blows, and there was like to be real murder 
 done, when Providence sent me that way, and I put 
 myseP between them; and got a blow on my head 
 that has given me a sair pain, but nobody is heed- 
 ing that if it be not Tim Buchan." 
 
 " Father, I'll never forgive the man who struck 
 you." 
 
 " Parf ect nonsense I The blow was an accident ! 
 I got it in the scuffle. In a way, I deserved it, for 
 if you get into another man's boat, you must look to 
 get your fingers or your head broken. But this or 
 that, the village is boiling like the sea wi' a school 
 o' herring, and some say Will has been o'er hasty, 
 and others say he did what was well and right. 
 God knows."
 
 158 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me, father, that Will did 
 not know about the letter until this afternoon?" 
 
 " Not until two hours ago hardly that itsel'." 
 
 Then Annie's face flushed scarlet. Confused, 
 shaken, lifted off her feet by this revelation of her 
 lover's lying treachery, she did not shrink or com- 
 promise, or slide away from the truth. A moment 
 or two she hesitated, while she looked unswervingly 
 on the shameful facts. Then she asked 
 
 " Do you think, father, that Roy took and kept 
 his brother's letter? " 
 
 " You may give him the benefit of the doubt, if 
 you can, Annie. I am not caring to say what I think. 
 I do not like Roy Morrison, so I would be a hard 
 judge. Some were doubting if Roy would dare to 
 do the like and so on " 
 
 " I have not a doubt of Roy's guilt," she an- 
 swered. " He told me he took the letter. He showed 
 it to me. He wanted me to read it." 
 
 "Annie Brodick!" 
 
 " I never touched it. I made him promise to go 
 to his brother and ask his forgiveness. He told me 
 last night that he had done so. He told me Will 
 laughed, and said it was of no consequence. "He lied 
 to me. The man is as bad as you believe him to be, 
 and I am a sorrowful woman this day. Maybe I
 
 Roy Accuses Himself 159 
 
 deserve the sorrow. I don't rightly know, but I 
 do know that I have a bitter, shameful heart- 
 ache" and she laid her head upon her arms and 
 wept as if the restrained tears of her lifetime had 
 suddenly been let loose, to drown and carry away as 
 with a flood the broken promises, withered hopes, and 
 slain love apparently doomed never to know 
 fruition apparently, because every sorrow has its 
 horizon, none are illimitable apparently, because 
 God had not permitted that any diviner should find 
 a sure mark about future events. Many times evil 
 has brought good, and sorrow been full of strange 
 joys and compensations. 
 
 Her father bent tenderly over the distracted girl. 
 " Annie," he said, " my dear Annie, the eternal God 
 is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting 
 arms and I tell thee, when thy mother was dying, 
 and I went with sinking heart through days and 
 nights of pain and grief, never was Christ's love 
 dearer, or his voice more sweet. Hearing it, I would 
 have gone through flood and fire to kiss his feet 
 for only Heaven is better than to walk with Christ at 
 midnight over sorrow's sea." 
 
 Annie shook her head despairingly, and he left her 
 alone alone in one of those dreary wastes made 
 by the loved who have deceived and deserted us
 
 160 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 vacant places, watered by the bitterest tears human 
 beings ever shed. She felt at that hour that all was 
 over. All had been. Her love had turned to ashes, 
 and the wind had carried it away. Up and down the 
 past her soul wandered, finding little comfort, for 
 in this sore strait her conscience told her plainly 
 that " she had been deceived because she wished to 
 be deceived." . 
 
 All through that bitter night she sat dumb and 
 motionless, without hope, and without comfort, her 
 thoughts vaguely following up and down some 
 words she had once heard her father say to a man 
 in well-deserved calamity 
 
 "Alick Sutor, the worst wounds we get we give 
 oursePs, with our own hands, and God never lays on 
 any man or woman such heavy burdens as they 
 bind on their own shoulders."
 
 CHAPTER EIGHT 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF FORGETFULNESS 
 
 FOR a few; days the Deacon did not leave his home. 
 He thought it best to keep out of the way of the 
 Morrison boys, and away from the discussion of an 
 incident so shameful, and yet which had a certain 
 regrettable connection with his daughter. For he 
 would be compelled to give his opinion regarding 
 Roy's innocence or guilt in the affair, and he could 
 not do this without also acknowledging that Roy 
 had confessed the theft of the letter to Annie, and 
 that she had given him three days' grace in which 
 to repair the wrong as far as possible. 
 
 No one knew better than Robert Brodick that 
 many would regard this kindness as a godless sym- 
 pathy with the sinner; indeed, he was not sure that 
 he himself quite acquitted her on this point. Those 
 three days had been the fatal days of decision at Me- 
 Brine's, and therefore Annie's prompt information 
 would have probably saved Will's position. He 
 found it hard to believe that a girl so just and truth- 
 ful should for three days and nights hesitate be- 
 tween right and wrong. 
 
 On the fourth morning his anxiety about the mat- 
 
 161
 
 1 62 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 ter made him resolve to question the doctor. " Mc- 
 Farlane will know all there is to know," he said to 
 himself, "and I'll even give him the opportunity to 
 speak this morning, for he is o'er clever a medical 
 man to say the opening word." 
 
 But as it happened, McFarlane introduced the sub- 
 ject. " It was a nasty blow you got, Deacon ; an inch 
 to the right would have been serious very serious 
 indeed. Roy Morrison in his passion strikes hard." 
 
 "I am not laying the blow on Roy exactly. 
 There was more than one pair o' hands on either 
 side, and I put myseP in the thick o' the stramash. It 
 was in the nature o' an accident, I'm thinking, Sir. 
 Naebody would want to hurt me why should 
 they?" 
 
 "Just so. Why should they? I was seeing Roy 
 Morrison an hour syne." 
 
 " It isn't possible ! You must be mistaken. I was 
 sure he would steal awa' as soon as the matter was 
 discovered." 
 
 "Not he! Will left immediate. The poor lad 
 thought an explanation would maybe put all right 
 at McBrine's. I am doubting that. Lucky Hislop 
 is in her bed; she's fretting hersel' into typhoid fever, 
 I fear. I was seeing her early this morning. She 
 swears she gave the letter to Roy, and Roy swears
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 163 
 
 himseP black and blue that she did not give him the 
 letter. Some folks, if you'll believe me, are taking 
 Roy's part; and there is a design o' reporting the 
 poor old woman to the government. If so, she will 
 likely lose all her livelihood, for you know yoursel', 
 Deacon, the government is as particular about its serv- 
 ants as Caesar was about his wife above sus- 
 picion is the rule, eh? " 
 
 "And Roy Morrison is still here? That is fair 
 astonishment to me." 
 
 "As I said, he was here an hour ago he is not 
 here now." 
 
 "You said you saw him." 
 
 "Ay, I saw him going to the boat wi' Mrs. Loch- 
 rigg linking on his arm. My Lady Lochrigg looked 
 as she was challenging the whole island. She held 
 up her head and a handsome head it is and 
 walked like the Queen o' Sheba. But if she had not 
 been at the man's right hand, it would have gone vera 
 unpleasantly wi' him. There were rotten eggs and 
 blistering words waiting to give him a proper set-off ; 
 but Madame's stern face, and her do-if-you-dare 
 manner, awed the lads into behaving themselves." 
 
 " That was like Sarah Lochrigg," answered Brod- 
 ick with enthusiasm. " Do d! doctor, that woman has 
 a heart of gold."
 
 164 The Han'ds of Compulsion 
 
 " She went on the boat with the lad, and in her 
 own way won round the Captain; for he led her 
 down the gangway wi' his ain hand, and stood wi' 
 his bare head bidding her good-bye and " 
 
 " I wouldn't wonder," interrupted Brodick," he 
 sailed wi' Captain Lochrigg when he was nothing 
 but a laddie." 
 
 "Weel, Mistress Lochrigg went up the street after 
 the parting wi' her head in the stars; and I have no 
 doubt in her heart the certainty that her precious 
 nephew would be treated wi' respect by every one on 
 The Lady Mary, if the Captain had any say-so on 
 his own ship. Deacon, you are right, Sarah Loch- 
 rigg is a wonderful woman within her own bounds." 
 
 "Did you hear where Roy was going? Glasgow, 
 I suppose?" 
 
 "No, no! He is too well known there. He is go- 
 ing to Edinburgh." 
 
 "Who told you that story?" 
 
 " Jean McKenzie, and what Jean McKenzie does 
 not know, has not yet been thought of." 
 
 "I wouldn't wonder if Jean is right. The lads 
 have an uncle there, a well-to-do watchmaker and 
 jeweler a man that is the very marrow o' his sister 
 Sarah but what for did he wait so long? Why did 
 he not go at once?"
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 165 
 
 The Deacon asked this question with some anxiety. 
 Had Roy waited to see Annie? Had he seen An- 
 nie? Such an idea he could hardly take into his 
 mind, and yet yet a woman loving so deeply and 
 tenderly, might be led to forget manifest duty 
 through an overwhelming pity, grounding itself in 
 a passionate spiritual anxiety for the soul of the Be- 
 loved One. So he asked with eyes full of wistful 
 solicitude "Why did he not go at once? This is 
 the fourth day. What was he doing here?" 
 
 "Nobody got sight o' him, though he was weel 
 watched for. He was hiding in his aunt's house, 
 and she was busy, here and there, raising some ready 
 money for the miserable creature." 
 
 "Sarah has plenty o' lying money o' her own. I'm 
 not understanding Sarah Lochrigg borrowing 
 money." 
 
 "She has more than plenty, but Sarah is a wonder- 
 ful woman for investing. As soon as she has an idle 
 twenty pounds, off it goes somewhere, to be earn- 
 ing its interest. And she had just sent away every 
 shilling she could spare. She borrowed one hun- 
 dred pounds from Lawyer Gait, and I have no 
 doubt the lad has taken every bawbee o' the hundred 
 away in his pouch. It is a quite utterly unspeakable 
 business!"
 
 1 66 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "But if you will notice, doctor, there is generally 
 something very good in everything very bad. Roy 
 Morrison's wickedness saying the lad is guilty 
 opened freely Mrs. Lochrigg's close purse, and her 
 love for the lad got the better even of her love for 
 honest gold. It was the hardest test you could put 
 to her religion, and thank God ! it went to the bottom 
 and extremity o' things, and did not fail. She is fond 
 o' money we all know that but when the heart 
 and the purse run over at the same time, there is no 
 fear o' us putting gold before God." 
 
 "I am thinking your word will be required on the 
 matter, Brodick." 
 
 " Not at all. Not at all. I have neither opinions 
 nor advices to give. I could not say this or that 
 without hurting Annie's feelings, and I'll not do that 
 in any case." 
 
 " Private and personal, you mean, of course. But 
 this case is bound to come before the Kirk, and then 
 what will you say? Roy Morrison's name ought to 
 be blotted out o' our Kirk's membership, and rea- 
 sons given of course, and who can say more, or 
 more truly, than yoursel'?" 
 
 "I will not vote to blot any name off the Kirk 
 book. While a righteous God can thole the man on 
 the face o' the earth, we can surely thole his name in
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 167 
 
 the Kirk's minutes. And if God takes him off the 
 earth, he is beyond our say-so clean and forever 
 beyond our judgment." 
 
 "I was hearing that the ne'er-do-weel confessed 
 to you, or to your daughter, that he got the 
 letter." 
 
 "If it were so, confessions are sacred things. But 
 I am free to say that I never heard a word o' con- 
 fession from Roy Morrison. You can ask Annie 
 Brodick the question, if you wish. Yes, or no, she 
 will tell you the truth." 
 
 "Good gracious man! Do you think a lover would 
 tell the lass he loved such a despicable, disgraceful- 
 like thing anent himself? If he did, he would be a 
 mortal idiot, and I mysel' would send him to Gart- 
 sherrie Asylum on this evidence alone." 
 
 "Roy was no idiot about his own affairs. I want 
 to know who said anything about the Kirk taking 
 cognizance o' the matter?" 
 
 "Elder Ruthven. He thought you would sift the 
 circumstance to the last atom o' truth and false- 
 hood." 
 
 "You may tell Elder Ruthven I will say neither 
 yes nor no about it." 
 
 "It might be your duty to speak, Brodick." 
 
 "Evil deeds are none the worse if they be passed
 
 ii68 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 by in discreet silence. Moving in muddy water, only 
 makes it muddier." 
 
 "You may be right, Deacon, but if it were well 
 looked into, I fear this passing by o' transgressions 
 would be found to be a bit o' rank Arian heresy a 
 thing to be held in utter abomination." . 
 
 "McFarlane, you are simply a ferocious Calvin- 
 ist." 
 
 "There is a great falling away, Deacon, in this 
 respect; and the talk o' Dr. Balmuto among our 
 fisher folk about the general, ay, the universal mercy 
 of God, has done a deal o' harm ; and most taken the 
 fear o' God from them. So it behooves the faithful 
 to keep a strict watch o'er such loose 'general' doc- 
 trine. Calvinism lives in the Eternal Order, and the 
 Eternal Order can never fail." 
 
 "Weel, weel, McFarlane, you and I will never pull 
 at opposite ends of the rope no fear o' that." 
 
 "Just so. I thought it right to testify so far. No 
 offence was meant, Brodick," and he pushed his big 
 hand across the table, and touched Brodick's hand. 
 Then they smiled and nodded that mutual nod 
 brimming over with friendly confidence. No words 
 were needed after it, and McFarlane rose, and Brod- 
 ick went to the door, and watched his friend out of 
 sight. He was a large, uncouth man, with a plain,
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 169 
 
 rough face, an irresistible will, and a domineering 
 temper. Not a popular man, but Brodick under- 
 stood and liked him. 
 
 "McFarlane is ugly every way you take him, and 
 there is more than enough of him," said Elder Bruce 
 one night after a stormy session. 
 
 "Ay," answered Brodick, "but he is a man all 
 through, and when he is particularly hot and over- 
 bearing, Bruce, he is just humanity on fire. Some- 
 how, I'm liking him best of all then." 
 
 As he turned from the door, Annie entered the 
 room. She was very pale, and there were dark shad- 
 ows under her eyes, and darker shadows still over 
 that inner life which is, after all, the real life. For 
 had everything been well there, Annie would have 
 been rosy and happy, and full of hope and song. She 
 asked after her father's wound, and told him dinner 
 was nearly ready, " And I have made you the beef- 
 steak pudding you like so well," she added, "and I 
 am hoping you can eat it to-day, father." 
 
 "To be sure I can, dearie." Then as she moved 
 about doing in a silent, listless way the duties that 
 fell to her, he began to wonder whether it would be 
 well to tell her Roy had left, or better to let the 
 trouble lie in silent neglect. When dinner was over 
 he was still uncertain what to do, but Annie herself
 
 170 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 opened the subject. She was sitting opposite to him 
 on the hearth, and was quite unoccupied. For she 
 had put out of her sight the useless wedding gar- 
 ments, and her empty hands had a pathetic meaning 
 to the sorrowful father. They looked even more 
 desolate than her face. 
 
 "Did you hear tell, father, that Roy had gone? 
 He will fret you no more now." 
 
 "McFarlane told me so." 
 
 "Then it is true. Kirsty heard it when she went 
 for milk, I was not sure o' the report." 
 
 "It is certainly true. He has gone to an uncle in 
 Edinburgh. His aunt went to the boat with him." 
 
 "Well she might. It was a poor job she made in 
 the bringing up o' Roy." 
 
 "It is Roy's own fault. He had the same bring- 
 ing up as his brother." 
 
 "The same, just so; and that was where the mis- 
 chief began. Roy required a different bringing up, 
 a tighter hand, a more positive way. I mind Marion 
 Balmuto saying that some souls seemed to come 
 here ready-made like Will's and others came in 
 the rough as it were, being purposely sent for school- 
 ing and discipline that was what Roy wanted, and 
 he never got it. Sarah Lochrigg was not fit to up- 
 bring boys if she had been, God would have given
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 171 
 
 her them ; then what for did she go and help herself 
 from other folks' little ones? I am blaming her for 
 all that has happened." 
 
 She spoke petulantly, and with a kind of angry 
 assertion, and her father watched her with an under- 
 standing pity. At first, she had been overwhelmed 
 by the fear that her disregard of her father's feel- 
 ings, and her refusal to take his advice, was the root 
 and the fruit of Roy's shameful trouble. But Brod- 
 ick knew that no one accepts the whole blame for 
 mischance or misdoing for long; there is a peremp- 
 tory disposition to throw a good share on some one 
 else, and Annie had chosen Mrs. Lochrigg as the 
 chief delinquent in Roy's case. 
 
 "God help her," mused the troubled father, "she 
 would blame me mysel' if there was no one else 
 ready;" and with the thought there came to him the 
 certainty, though unconfessed as yet, that Annie 
 really did hold him guilty. Had she not asked him 
 to share his business and home with Roy? He had 
 refused. But what if he had acted differently? And 
 as soon as he put this question to himself, he knew 
 that Annie had asked and answered it, according to 
 her own feelings and desires. 
 
 It was an invisible barrier between them, all the 
 more so, that neither spoke of it; the Deacon, be-
 
 172 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 cause he thought it an almost brutally selfish de- 
 mand, Annie, because she was aware of its specious- 
 ness and injustice, and knew her claim must vanish 
 before her father's inviolable right; and the few 
 strong words in which he would defend that right. 
 And she felt averse to give up this grievance. It was 
 her last resort, when day after day she hoped for a 
 letter and none came; when she was sick at heart, 
 and her head ached, and all her life had lost its 
 savor, when she could find no excuse for Roy's neg- 
 lect, she could at least fall back on her father's 
 cruelty to him. 
 
 "But the poor lad was feared for father," she 
 would whisper to herself, " or things might have been 
 so different; all Roy wanted was a lift up, and father 
 would not give him it well, well, if my dear mother 
 had been alive, all would have been different and 
 Roy is not knowing what I suffer or caring no- 
 body cares why should they when my own father 
 doesn't heed?" 
 
 Then would follow that fatal luxury of self-pity 
 which makes the soul sink back upon itself and retire 
 from all affections. 
 
 So to the Deacon and his daughter the Spring 
 brought little pleasure, and the Summer widened 
 the breach. For the father had then the reasonable
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 173 
 
 excuse of increased business and he came to his un- 
 happy home as little as possible during the six days 
 of the week, and on the Sabbath hid himself in that 
 pavilion of solemn silence, which Annie, unreason- 
 able as she was, would not profane with her earthly 
 love-sorrow. This condition came very gradually 
 about. At first Brodick showed a wonderful 
 sympathy for his child; he respected her desire for 
 solitude, and took pains to keep from her the numer- 
 ous instances of Roy's want of honesty and honor, 
 which every day, for some time after his departure, 
 came to public discussion. 
 
 However, the most perfect patience has its limit, 
 and one day when the herring season was over, and 
 the wheat reaped, and the Winter closing in upon 
 them, he became irritated at her nursing grief for a 
 man so unworthy. Her pale face, her eyes red with 
 weeping, and her listless melancholy manner were 
 wrongs that he felt it hard to bear. 
 
 He laid down his spoon, pushed his soup plate 
 aside, and looking with displeasure at her said, 
 "Roy Morrison's boat was sold to-day." 
 
 "What right had anyone to sell Roy's boat?" 
 
 "It was sold to help the payment of his debts. He 
 left little else behind him." 
 
 "He left one true heart that loves him."
 
 174 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "What does he care for any true heart? Not so 
 much as a penny postage stamp. Now, Annie Brod- 
 ick, I'll have no crying at my dinner board. I'm 
 tired to death of your tears or the shadow of 
 them. Be done with your selfish sorrow, for a ne'er- 
 do-well that isn't worth one thought from any good 
 
 woman." 
 
 "Father, I will " 
 
 "You will be quiet till I get through what I have 
 got to say. All your childhood and girlhood you 
 were noted for your extraordinary self-restraint. 
 Pain couldn't win a tear from your eyes, nor dis- 
 appointment; ay, you stood at your mother's coffin 
 dry-eyed. Now, what for are you crying yoursel' 
 blind for a parfect blackguard? And though it be 
 but a secondly consideration why are you making 
 me the most homeless and miserable man in Arran? 
 I'll have no more of such sinful ways. I say 'sin- 
 ful' because sorrow like you breed, comes from the 
 devil no good heart, loving and trusting God, 
 would give it five minutes' lodgment." 
 
 "I did not think you cared whether I was happy 
 or not. And you might have saved both yourself 
 and me this trouble, and perhaps Roy his transgres- 
 sion, if you would only have taken the poor lad by 
 the hand, and given him the right place of a son-in-
 
 V. 
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 175 
 
 law. But little you cared for Roy's welfare, or my 
 happiness." 
 
 "Oh! that is the sore in your heart. I thought 
 so. Little you cared for my happiness, when you 
 wanted me to danger my business with a thief at the 
 till and the books. Little indeed you cared for my 
 happiness, when you would have let such a miserable 
 creature on my hearth, and at my board, and made 
 him chief in all your love and care even before my 
 eyes, and in my ears, morning, noon and night. I 
 would have been without a home on your wedding 
 day, and in less than a year's go-by I would have 
 been without a business." 
 
 "You just took a hatred of Roy, and that with- 
 out any reason at first." 
 
 "Annie, I don't tell you all my reasons for what I 
 say or do. Plenty other folk hated him. It was 
 hard to sell his boat. No one wanted it after him. 
 At last Bob Mullen gave two pounds for the unlucky 
 thing. * It will whamle o'er, or go to the bottom,' 
 he said, ' but life's a poor, bad business for Roy 
 Morrison and myseP, and I'll gie two pounds to win 
 decently out o' it.' " 
 
 "I am ashamed at you, father, repeating anything 
 Bob Mullen said. He was drunk, of course; he is 
 always drunk."
 
 176 TKe Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "Sober enough to get a can o' paint from Joe 
 Lindsey, and paint out your name, and put Maggie 
 Flett's in its place. Well then, that is the last o' 
 The Bonnie Annie" 
 
 " I am glad if it. That boat was the first of the 
 trouble. The unlucky thing may go to matches on 
 any rock she likes. What for are you telling me this 
 news? It isn't like you." 
 
 " Because when the body is requiring the sur- 
 geon's knife, the doctor isn't the help needed. I 
 have said kina words to you, and kept ill news from 
 you, month after month, and you are neither sensi- 
 ble o' the kindness nor better o' the ignorance. So 
 from this hour, I will tell you the truth, and the 
 whole o' it." f 
 
 " That was, and is, your duty. I am no bairn." 
 
 " You are a most ungrateful woman." 
 
 " I am a very sorrowful woman. If my mother 
 was alive " 
 
 " She would have sorted you long before this. 
 Do you think you are the only girl that ever made an 
 idol of a man and then found him clay? Think 
 shame o' yoursel, for crying o'er a general calamity 
 that women have had to thole ever since the world 
 began. Now I have something to tell you. The 
 Rev. Mr. Saunders is to have a great installment a
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 177 
 
 week from next Sabbath Day. There will be four 
 famous ministers there, the Moderator o' the Kirk 
 of Scotland likely being one o' them. A grand, 
 gracious occasion it will be, and we the baith o' us 
 are bid to witness it. Thinly o' it! An invite 
 to the Minister's ain house ! Will you behave your- 
 sel' and go with me?" 
 
 "To Mr. Saunders installation? No. I cannot 
 go, even if I wanted to go and I do not want to 
 
 go." 
 
 "Why can't you go?" 
 
 " I have no fitting clothes to wear." 
 
 " You made yoursel' some very bonnie gowns not 
 so long since." 
 
 " I made them for my wedding, and I will never 
 put one o' them on me for aless occasion. Marion 
 Balmuto will likely be there, and in the height, 
 and length, and breadth o' the fashion. I am not 
 wanting to go, father in any case. You might 
 know that." 
 
 " As you cannot take a Godsend o' pleasuring 
 with a good heart, I'm not wanting you to go. Your 
 unhappy face would be a discomforture to every 
 one there. Forbye, I would be fairly ashamed to 
 have Mr. Saunders see you, for when he asked you 
 to be "
 
 178 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Mrs. Saunders." 
 
 " Ay, Mrs. Saunders a great honor if you had 
 had your senses at the time you were a parfect 
 beauty; a lovely, healthy, happy girl on the sunny 
 side o' eighteen years old. Now, you are withered 
 and haggard, and look thirty at the least and your 
 beauty is washed away, and you're as crabbit as 
 an auld maid o' fifty. I would hate Mr. Saunders 
 to see the change. I used to be the proudest father 
 in Scotland, full o' the glory o' your sweetness, and 
 your fine looks. I am not proud o' you now. I 
 would just as leave, and rather, go to Glasgow with- 
 out you. I'm not caring for folks pitying me." 
 
 " Father, it is a shame a cruel shame to speak 
 to me in such a belittling way. I am neither old nor 
 ugly yet. You use your power very meanly, to say 
 I am. No one would dare to talk to me so insult- 
 ingly but you." 
 
 " I am judging from observation mine own, and 
 others. There are no sweethearts coming up to 
 Brodick house these days." 
 
 " That is my own fault and yours." 
 
 "Mine?" 
 
 " Yes. You don't know how to treat a decent lad 
 properly. You are aye feared they are going to 
 wrong you, some way or other. No one will go
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 179 
 
 where they are suspicioned, whatever they say, or 
 do. What do I want with sweethearts? I have 
 promised Roy Morrison to be his wife. I'll not 
 break that promise." 
 
 " Annie, I have let you talk back to me this time. 
 I had my reasons. Now listen to me. I am going 
 to Glasgow by mysel', and when I come back, I'll 
 be expecting to find the house clean and bright and 
 cheerful, as it used to be. You'll drop no more 
 tears into my food, and you'll croon no more be- 
 wailing laments in my house-place. If one love has 
 played you a mean, false trick, try and do your plain 
 duty to the true love, that is still yours; and if you 
 don't have the thing you want, make the best, and 
 the happiest, of the things you do have. Let me 
 tell you " 
 
 "No, no! Stop, father." 
 
 " Not yet. Let me tell you, the house has not 
 been as clean and tidy lately as it used to be; and 
 many things have been out of their usual time and 
 place and I may make the observe that I distrust 
 women to whom dust and disorder is of no conse- 
 quence. There is something wrong with their 
 spiritual life. Your soul, as well as my house, needs 
 inquiring after. I could say more " 
 
 " You have said enough too much, father. And
 
 'i8o The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 I see Sarah Lochrigg coming. I cannot see her. 
 I could not endure her talk let me go, father. I'll 
 try and do better." 
 
 Brodick made no objections, and Annie slipped 
 upstairs as Mrs. Lochrigg entered the house. She 
 was much excited and had a letter in her hand. It 
 was from Mr. Saunders, and Sarah was much flat- 
 tered by his attention. 
 
 " I shall lay the letter on the very top o 1 my 
 card basket," she laughed. " It is the same as a 
 bill o' good moral health, for folks can't say an ill 
 word of a woman with a minister's own invitation 
 so prominent. Are you going, Robert?" 
 
 " Ay, but Annie is dour against going. She says 
 she will stay at home." 
 
 " She is right." 
 
 " Right ! What for is she right ? " 
 
 " For more reasons than I can give you now. And 
 if they are not already staring you in the face, there 
 is no use trying to make you see them. I would not 
 go a step, if I was Annie, so I know she is right, 
 
 reason or no reason." 
 
 " I wish you would talk to her, wisely and kindly, 
 Sarah; I have taken the upper hand with her to-day, 
 and she is feeling it." 
 
 " You ought to have done so long since."
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 181 
 
 " Maybe I ought. When I am away call her 
 downstairs, and make her listen to you. One woman 
 ought to know what to say to another. I am either 
 too rough or too kind." 
 
 " Robert, you will require to get a new suit of 
 blacks." 
 
 " I know. I am going to Johnston's about it 
 
 now." 
 
 " Man Robert ! Buy a ready-made suit in Glas- 
 gow. It will be city-like. Johnston's cuts are ter- 
 ribly countrified. You have a fine figure, get a ready- 
 made suit to fit it." 
 
 Brodick straightened himself and threw back his 
 shoulders, and Sarah smiled at the vanity of the 
 man. But Brodick did not accept her advice. 
 "Ready-made clothes!" he snorted scornfully. "I 
 wouldn't put them on my back. As you say, Sarah, 
 I have a good figure, and I'll have my clothes made 
 to fit it. Will you get a new dress for the occasion, 
 Sarah?" A 
 
 " Me I I sre mysel' spending twenty pounds on 
 little Saunders' installation. No, no! I shall send 
 my * regrets ' and keep the sovereigns where they will 
 be doing their duty, and earning a few bawbees. 
 Now run awa', Robert, and order your breeks, and 
 your coat, and your waistcoat o' black satin, for I
 
 182 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 know there is no joy to men-folks like a special serv- 
 ice, wi' a presbytery o' ministers to conduct it." 
 
 " You see I was one o' Mr. Saunders' deacons." 
 
 " Excuses are not in order. Go your ways to the 
 tailors, and I'll call Annie down, and see what I can 
 make o' her." 
 
 She watched Brodick outside the gate, and then 
 went to the stair foot and called "Annie Brodick! 
 Annie Brodick 1 " At first, Annie did not answer, 
 but Sarah's insistence at length compelled her recog- 
 nition. She came down slowly, and showed a face 
 wan and wretched-looking. " You poor bit lassie ! " 
 cried Sarah. "Whatever is wrong wi' you?" 
 
 " Father and I have had a few words, and I 
 think he was unkind beyond everything." 
 
 11 Men are always either unkind or too kind. 
 They have neither sense nor mense. We will talk 
 the matter o'er between ourselves, but first, Annie, 
 give me a cup o' your tea. No one can infuse a 
 pot o' tea like Annie Brodick. You are the best 
 tea-maker in the whole town." 
 
 " There is a deal in the kind o' tea, Sarah. Father 
 sends the very best home six and sixpence a pound 
 at the least and whiles even higher." 
 
 " Yes, but you have the way \ Your mother 
 had it likewise. It's a gift, Annie."
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 183 
 
 And Annie was flattered and pleased, and called 
 for boiling water, and made the tea, bringing, al- 
 most cheerfully, with her own hands sugar and 
 cream, and a few sweet crackers " just to nibble 
 at." 
 
 " It is an extraordinar solace, Annie," said the 
 elder woman, sipping her Young Hyson deliber- 
 ately. Her feet rested on the steel fender, and her 
 black cashmere dress was carefully folded back over 
 her knees, lest the heat should injure it. " Now, 
 Annie," she continued, " what is it between you and 
 your good father? Tell Aunt Sarah for you used 
 always to call me aunt and I am sure I couldn't 
 have been nearer or dearer to your mother if we 
 had been twins in one household." 
 
 11 1 know that, Aunt Sarah. Roy is between father 
 and myself nothing else." 
 
 " Then let me tell you, Roy must step out. He is 
 just a troubler of families. He has now his uncle's 
 household at sixes and sevens, and he has got his 
 dismissal in consequence. Annie Brodick, you must 
 forget Roy." 
 
 " I cannot forget forgetting is the death of your 
 heart, and I love Roy yet." 
 
 " I love him also." 
 
 " Then do you forget him? "
 
 1184 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " There is no occasion for me to forget him. I 
 can please mysel' who or what I love. You can't." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " You are yet under authority. Your father's 
 house is not yours, and it is a sin to fill anybody's 
 home with sighing and weeping. Wait until you 
 have your own house, then, if you like, you can make 
 complaining places of every room in it." 
 
 " If Roy had had any kind of justice " 
 
 " He would likely have been in prison ere this 
 time. He has had mercy instead and little good 
 it has done him. He is in a peck o* trouble, even 
 now." 
 
 " What is wrong now? " 
 
 11 Women, in the first place making love to his 
 cousins Betty and Jennie at the same time, and con- 
 fidences between sisters, of course, and the cat out 
 o' the bag, and the father furious, and the mother 
 crying, and the two girls quarreling with one an- 
 other. He says they made love to him, but there, 
 who knows? " 
 
 " I have no doubt Roy is right. He sends you let- 
 ters he has never written me a word. That is 
 what breaks my heart." 
 
 " Roy's letters to you would mean nothing only 
 a few silly words without truth in them. The only
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 185 
 
 letters he writes sincerely are those in which he asks 
 for money. But it is not of Roy I want to speak. 
 He is out of your life. You can no more bring back 
 the past than you can tie cobwebs, or mend bubbles. 
 It is your father who is now important, for he has 
 come to a turning point which taken wrong may 
 mean sorrow for both o' you." 
 
 "What do you mean, Aunt Sarah?" 
 
 " He is sick of his home, the way you keep it this 
 past year, and I am wondering mysel' at his extraor- 
 dinar patience. But patience has grown to im- 
 patience, and if you do not walk your shoes 
 straighter, you will be forced to walk out of all the 
 pleasant paths of your past life." 
 
 " Do say plainly what you want to say, Sarah. 
 I am not understanding you." 
 
 " In plain words then, your father will take him 
 a wife to keep his home as he wants it kept. There 
 are two rather nice widow women even now setting 
 their white caps and streamers for his favor, not to 
 speak o' Miss Grizelda Binnie, the maiden lady of 
 Beech bank." 
 
 " Who are the widows? " 
 
 " First, the Widow McLean, who is well-to-do, 
 and who stands high in the Kirk; and second, pretty 
 Leslie Kerr, who is sonsie and merry, and not over
 
 1 86 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 forty years old. Miss Binnie in her pony carriage 
 is at your father's shop most every day. She has 
 three hundred pounds a year, and thinks hersel' the 
 topping stone o' religion and gentility. I have 
 watched them all three, Annie, and I know well they 
 
 MM 
 
 are all three desiring to be Mistress Brodick. And 
 mind this, my dearie, your father is only a man, that 
 is to say, he is a vain creature, well-conceited o' his 
 own parfections." 
 
 " Aunt Sarah, if you would marry father, I would 
 like that." 
 
 " Me marry 1 No, no child 1 I know a thing or 
 two beyond marrying that bit o' foolishness is for 
 bairns in wisdom and experience. I have been my 
 own mistress too long, to have any man body calling 
 me up and down the house, and wanting this, that, 
 and the other thing; for it is untelling what you 
 may have to do for the best o' them." 
 
 " Father thinks so highly of you, Aunt." 
 
 " Ay, he has often said so, but I am out o' the 
 question. One thing is sure, you may soon have to 
 consider whether it will be Widow McLean, or Les- 
 lie Kerr, or that upsetting Grizelda Binnie, who will 
 be set o'er you. For I tell you, it will be one o' the 
 three, if you do not study your father's comfort 
 more, and better."
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 187 
 
 " Father has whiles a very trying way." 
 
 " Trying way ! every man has a trying way o' his 
 own, but it is next to the chief end of a daughter 
 to find it out, and humor it. If you don't do it, 
 Annie, some other woman will, I'm telling you. 
 Even now, you are a speculation to the women in 
 their gossipping they are aye wondering and dis- 
 cussing how this or the other step-mother would 
 treat you; for it is a well known fact that a girl 
 who gets a step-mother, gets a step-father at the 
 same time." 
 
 " Father would allow no one to treat me badly." 
 
 " That's a problem we won't discuss it. But 
 you have yet some opportunity left to regain your 
 place; be busy about it, for opportunities have usu- 
 ally a short life. Do as I tell you it is better and 
 easier to humble yoursel' to your father than to 
 some strange usurping woman." 
 
 " I know. Oh yes, I know. But I have done 
 nothing wrong. Why then should I humble my- 
 self?" 
 
 ' You have done wrong every day o' the last year, 
 and every hour o' the day." 
 
 "Aunt Sarah!" 
 
 " Ay, have you, but there's none so hard to con- 
 vince of a fault as they who know themselves in
 
 1 88 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 the wrong. One o' the prime duties of the mistress 
 of any home is the duty o' the cheerful morning 
 face, and your own servant lass told me you came 
 down wi' woesome looks and weary eyes, and hardly 
 able to speak, day after day. A nice, cheerful com- 
 panion you must be at any breakfast table! It is a 
 sin and a shame to begin your own days in a way like 
 that. It is a cruel offence, an unpardonable wrong, 
 to continually send your father into the world's 
 fight with gloom and discontent, and everything to 
 discourage him. You have kept up a moral drizzle, 
 Annie, month after month, until you have broken the 
 spirit of the best man God ever made. Will you 
 now turn round, and do as I advise you?" 
 
 " If father would bring back Roy." 
 
 " He will not, and he ought not. I have come 
 to see that no human being can help Roy. He must 
 go to the schools of suffering and poverty. He must 
 prove the folly o' his own way by trials sore and 
 many." 
 
 " Aunt, Aunt, do not spae ill fortune to him. How 
 can you? " 
 
 " Give Roy up, even in your thoughts. Do not 
 ruin your life, and your father's life, for him. He 
 will be taken care of by Them who will guide him
 
 The Beginning of Forgetfulness 189 
 
 wisely, where we have guided him foolishly. Will 
 you leave him with Them?" 
 
 "How can I?" 
 
 " Weel, I have told you the truth. If you wish 
 to steep yoursel' a while longer in this brine o' your 
 ain salting, do so. I'll say no more. Dear knows, I 
 am sorry for you, but I'll be going. I'm little use 
 here. I see that." 
 
 " You have done more than you think, Aunt 
 Sarah. I may turn the leaf straight over. I will 
 have no woman here in my place." 
 
 " That is right. And dress yoursel' a bit bonnier. 
 Your father is gey fond o' a bright ribbon, and a 
 happy smile to marrow it. Upon my word, Annie, 
 very little pleases him, and you have the ball in 
 your hand. Think the matter over. Could you go 
 with your father to the installation?" 
 
 " I have no dress fitting." 
 
 " Say you had a dress?" 
 
 " I could not go. Don't you understand? " 
 
 " Ay, I think I do. Good-bye, Annie ! I am your 
 friend, whatever comes or goes."
 
 CHAPTER NINE 
 
 A LITTLE TOO LATE 
 
 CAUTIOUS, both by birth and lifelong training, it 
 cannot be supposed that Annie was indifferent to 
 the news Mrs. Lochrigg had brought her, and the 
 advice she had given. She went to her room to 
 consider it point by point. In the first place she ac- 
 cepted its truthfulness without demur; there was no 
 question of its reliability. Her father's intention 
 of marriage, and Roy's infidelity to herself, were 
 two facts not to be disputed. What then was the 
 best way to receive or to combat them? 
 
 It struck her as strange that her father's defection 
 hurt her the most acutely, and also assumed the first 
 and highest importance. How was this? Was she 
 forgetting Roy? Was he less dear to her? Cer- 
 tainly, her father's threatened marriage put aside 
 the tragic delay of her own. The circumstance 
 troubled her. Was she beginning to forget! She 
 resolved to remember Roy specially, every time the 
 clock struck, and she did not comment upon the fact 
 
 190
 
 A Little Too Late 191 
 
 that she was telling her heart to do w.hat it had hith- 
 erto done itself. 
 
 She knew the three women who were intriguing 
 for her father and her home, and she liked none 
 of them. Pretty Leslie Kerr was the least objection- 
 able, but Annie had always felt her assumption of 
 youth and beauty to be ridiculous. She had no 
 wrinkles, and no grey hairs, and she knew how to 
 hide her years with demurely fetching gowns and 
 neckwear. She would certainly teach her father the 
 meaning of it all in cash. 
 
 "And I would have to outdress her, no matter 
 what it cost," reflected Annie, " and if father likes 
 that kind of rivalry in his home, we two could give 
 him enough of it. As for Miss Grizel Binnie," she 
 continued, " I could manage her. I would just need 
 to pet her lap dogs, and tell her she was aristocratic- 
 looking two things I would not do under any cir- 
 cumstances; and for the Widow McLean I have not 
 one likelihood. I simply would not live under the 
 same roof with her, and to sit at the same table with 
 Christy McLean three times every day is an un- 
 thinkable situation well, then, Annie Brodick, what 
 are you going to do?" 
 
 She asked herself this question audibly, and in 
 the stress of feeling it evoked, unconsciously stood
 
 192 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 up to answer it. " I am not going to leave father 
 and home for any one of these three women. I 
 can make much of Robert Brodick, as well as they 
 can. I can dress beyond any of them, and I have 
 youth and beauty, though father did say I was with- 
 ered and haggard, and looked thirty years old he 
 knew better well he knew better, and I'll show him 
 that I'm on the right side of twenty yet. Then I 
 can make the house-place brighter than any he finds 
 elsewhere, and for my mother's sake, and my own 
 sake, I'll give father no excuse for putting Leslie 
 Kerr, or Grizel Binnie, or that tawpie Aggie Mc- 
 Lean in her place." 
 
 As soon as this decision was reached she ran down- 
 stairs, made the house-place cozy and bright and 
 warm, hurried back to her room, crimped and curled 
 her hair, and put on her ruby-colored merino, with 
 its velvet trimmings and ivory-shaded lace, that her 
 father like best of all her dresses. 
 
 These homely duties left her no time to consider 
 Roy's love-making to his cousins; she put that 
 trouble aside until the night hours would lawfully 
 giver her solitude. Then she prepared the tea-table 
 and watched for her father's home-coming. When 
 he was at the garden gate she tapped on the window, 
 and smiled a welcome as she had been used to do
 
 A Little Too Late 193 
 
 before the trouble about Roy came, and though her 
 smile was not answered, she did not allow herself 
 to drop below the pitch she had resolved to live at. 
 
 But as it often happens when we resolve to be 
 good and kind circumstances are against us. The 
 Deacon had left the house angry with his daughter, 
 and her apparent cheerfulness was something of an 
 offence. Did she intend to show him how easily she 
 could put his displeasure aside? And was his un- 
 usual scolding a thing of so little consequence that 
 it might be passed over without one word of sorrow 
 from the delinquent who had made him suffer so 
 much for so long? No, Annie was making too little 
 of her faults. He wanted his prodigal daughter to 
 confess her sins against him, and acknowledge that 
 she had abused his love and long-suffering, and then 
 then certainly, he would kiss and forgive her. 
 Alas, Annie had forgotten this preliminary to re- 
 stored affection, so her father was depressed and 
 silent, and almost irresponsive to all her attempts at 
 conversation. 
 
 The Deacon was, in fact, yielding to that most or- 
 dinary of domestic temptations getting cross as 
 others grow kind. Fortunately Annie understood 
 the mood of her father. Had she not seen her 
 mother master it under all kinds of conditions ? And
 
 194 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 still more enlightening was the fact that she person- 
 ally had given way to it, and for months repelled 
 loyal and loving advances by its chilling attitude of 
 unpardonable wrong and ill-usage. She therefore 
 accepted the retaliation and made the best of it. 
 
 So until the Deacon's departure for the installa- 
 tion, a kind of April weather, gloom and sunshine, 
 prevailed. Both earnestly desired to restore the old 
 and happy conditions, but the temperature of house- 
 hold life is about as uncertain as the temperature of 
 the weather. And just at this time the Deacon was 
 anxious about many things he was making out a 
 list for his Spring purchases he was writing direc- 
 tions for his clerks to meet all the exigencies he 
 thought probable he had many good-bye calls to 
 make and his new suit had to be sent back for al- 
 terations, and did not finally reach him until he was 
 ready to leave for Glasgow. During the next ten 
 days Annie fully realized that she had forced 
 changes in her life that made it almost impossible 
 to bring back the peaceful, pleasant conditions she 
 had so foolishly allowed to drift away. 
 
 The Deacon was to be a week or more in Glasgow, 
 and Annie spent the time in renovating the house, 
 and in a thorough examination of herself and her 
 possible outlook. There was tumult and rebellion
 
 A Little Too Late 195 
 
 in her soul, and the bitterness with which she peered 
 into the shadowy way before her cannot be ex- 
 pressed by any word or sign. That this trouble was 
 mainly her own fault, made the searching inquiries 
 no easier. And as to Roy, she still loved him, though 
 Sarah Lochrigg had insisted on her reading his 
 uncle's letter setting forth Roy's misdoings. She 
 did so, and gave it back with the remark, " We have 
 only one side of the story, Aunt; Roy ought to be 
 heard also." " You are an unconvinceable lassie," 
 replied Mrs. Lochrigg, and Annie shrugged her 
 shoulders and turned away, for Love laughs at 
 evidences. 
 
 Sarah was helping her with the house, and very 
 hard both women worked to make it as beautiful as 
 fresh white paint and new muslin curtains and many 
 pretty accessories could do; while Sarah's oversight 
 of the cleaning women insured that exquisite spotless- 
 ness of every cupboard, nook and corner, which com- 
 pelled all who entered the house to smile and sigh 
 with pleasure, or perhaps ejaculate, " How fresh ! 
 How sweet the place is!" And it was fresh and 
 sweet as the pansies and hyacinths that filled the 
 window shelves. The place fitted the flowers, and 
 the flowers fitted the place, and what more can be 
 said?
 
 '196 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 During the day, and the labor it brought, Annie 
 kept cheerful, but the loneliness of the night hours 
 revealed clearly to her that she had herself passed 
 a line she could never re-cross. She was not yet 
 twenty, but all the spontaneous mirth, and all the 
 unconscious love of motion, characteristic of joyous 
 youth, was gone; and she could neither recall nor 
 imitate it. For any soul that has suffered Love's 
 sorrow is awakened forever to the melancholy side 
 of things. It has undergone the earth, and the 
 heaven-touched carelessness and fearlessness of child- 
 hood have passed out of the possibilities of future 
 life. 
 
 Yet it was with loving words and a beaming smile 
 Annie met her father on his return; and this time 
 her efforts to win him met a full reward. He was 
 delighted with his renovated home, and his rejuven- 
 ated daughter. He praised both without stint, and 
 ate with joyful heart the good meal Annie had pre- 
 pared for him. He had had a charming visit, and 
 was full of content and satisfaction. The big Kirk, 
 the famous ministers, the great congregation, the 
 handsome manse, the Minister's mother, and the won- 
 derfully fine meals she served, were the topics of con- 
 versation that never seemed to weary him. 
 
 They soon wearied Annie, however, for she saw
 
 A Little Too Late 197 
 
 plainly that her father had not given up the hope 
 that she would yet marry Mr. Saunders. This event 
 seemed to the Deacon so desirable, so almost natural, 
 he could not but believe in its final certainty. Dur- 
 ing this visit he had also found time to renew his 
 friendship with Dr. Balmuto, and Marion had sent 
 Annie a loving letter and a pair of gold bracelets, 
 and asked her to pay her a long visit. " She was 
 engaged to Mr. Crieff," she said, " and she expected 
 Annie to come and help her a little with her marriage 
 outfit." 
 
 So quite a new element came into the Brodicks' 
 life. Frequent letters were sent and received, and 
 the Deacon began to visit the city with some kind of 
 regularity. Annie also accepted the renewed offer 
 of friendship gratefully; she knew that Marion 
 would be a possible outgait if a step-mother should 
 ever be set over her; and she wrote to her confi- 
 dentially of the sorrow that had come to her through 
 Roy, and of the still closer sorrow darkening her 
 horizon. 
 
 As the weeks went on, the Deacon grew more and 
 more infatuated with the Glasgow Sabbaths, and 
 after every visit pleaded covertly, or openly, the de- 
 sirability of Annie marrying the Minister; but with 
 all a woman's contradiction she set herself against
 
 198 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 him. She finally refused to show any pleasure in 
 the Rev. Mr. Saunders' Kirk, or manse, or mother, 
 though she really did enjoy her father's description 
 of the fine dining-room, and the Minister's study, 
 and the rich people whose worship he directed. " I 
 am a bit weary of Mr. Saunders and his greatness, 
 father," she would say; " I like better to hear o' 
 the famous folk you meet at Dr. Balmuto's, and 
 about Marion and Mr. Crieff. Has he still got * The 
 Settlement' on his brain or heart?" 
 
 " I fear it was just a passing experiment with him. 
 There is nobody in the world but Marion Balmuto 
 now it is maybe a pity one can't tell. I am not 
 in favor of deviations in Kirk matters." 
 
 The Summer was not a very happy one. The 
 Deacon's Glasgow friends were scattered, and he 
 did not go much to the city. True, he got letters, 
 and Annie could always tell when one had arrived. 
 " We had Mr. Saunders, and all that belongs to him, 
 for dinner and supper yesterday," she would com- 
 plain to Mrs. Lochrigg, and that lady, sniffing 
 angrily, would " wish Mr. Saunders in a better place 
 than this world, and no harm in the wish," and would 
 add, " for he is aye talking about its advantages and 
 blessedness. Are you intending to marry the little 
 man at the long last?"
 
 A Little Too Late 199 
 
 " No, never ! Have you heard anything of Roy, 
 Aunt?" 
 
 " Not a word." 
 
 "Where is he?" 
 
 " God knows no one else does." 
 
 "Lam miserable about him." 
 
 " So am I, dearie." 
 
 " If Will was at home, he would find him." 
 
 "Ay, but Will is in the Chinese seas, and he is 
 coming back by Australia. It may be a year ere Will 
 wins home and till he gets home he is bound to his 
 ship." 
 
 " I know." 
 
 "What can we do?" 
 
 " Pray and leave Roy to Them." 
 
 With the Autumn the Deacon's visits to Glasgow 
 became more frequent, and on his return from one 
 in the middle of October he said to Annie, " Mr. 
 Saunders is going to be married. You are bid to 
 the wedding." 
 
 "Mr. Saunders!" 
 
 " Ay. You have missed that fine opportunity, 
 and you will never have another to match it." 
 
 She was much annoyed. She had been for three 
 years so sure of this man's loyal affection, and per- 
 haps there lay deep in her consciousness a thought,
 
 2OO The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 a shadowy possibility, that she might some day, yet 
 a long time off, listen to his wooing. And he had 
 forgotten her. She laughed scornfully, and asked: 
 
 " What kind of a lassie is to wear my old shoes? " 
 
 " I have not seen her," answered Brodick, " but 
 his mother is fairly set up with her. She says she 
 is bonnie enough, and only a young thing not eighteen 
 years old. Her father has given her five thousand 
 pounds as a set off." 
 
 " She might have got more for her money. Is 
 she a Glasgow girl?" 
 
 " Ay, but they met at St. Andrews. She was sum- 
 mering there, and he was on a visit to his old col- 
 lege. It had to be, I suppose. They are to be 
 married in three weeks, and you will need a fine 
 dress for the occasion." 
 
 " I cannot go, father. Do not ask me. It is just 
 impossible at this time." 
 
 "Why at this time?" 
 
 " Roy disappeared last week. No one knows 
 whether he is dead or alive." 
 
 41 What has he been doing now? " 
 
 " Father, why will you think wrong without rea- 
 son? There is nothing against him." 
 
 "Has Sarah heard from him?" 
 
 " Not yet. Her brother sent her word."
 
 A Little Too Late 201 
 
 "When did Roy go?" 
 
 "Go! Go where?" 
 
 " He must have gone somewhere." 
 
 " He may have been killed." 
 
 " Nonsense ! Parf ect nonsense ! " 
 
 " Or killed himself. Sarah says he has had a deal 
 of trouble lately." 
 
 " Trouble ! naturally. I only hope when he is 
 found, or heard tell of, that he won't bring more 
 trouble to Sarah. I don't see what you have to do 
 with that fellow's whereabouts. I am not liking 
 .you speaking his name in my presence. For any 
 sake, don't begin another year's mourning. I can't 
 thole it, Annie! I can't, and I won't! I saw as 
 soon as I entered the door you were looking sick, and 
 not like yoursel' again. And I'm telling you, that 
 it is a sin and a shame to make yoursel' sick and 
 auld-looking for a worthless, wicked man." 
 
 " He was my promised husband. I have a right 
 to make myself sick and ugly for him, if I want to." 
 ' You have not. The laws of the body its 
 health and happiness are as much God's laws as 
 any other. Forbye, if you even had the right to in- 
 jure, and make yoursel' wretched, you have not the 
 right to injure and make me wretched. Why was 
 my house made beautiful, if you turn it into a place
 
 202 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 of mourning and tears? Dust and ashes over every- 
 thing would have been more fitting. And all for a 
 man reprobate and contemptible, and not worth one 
 loving thought from any good woman." 
 
 " I loved Roy. I love him yet." 
 
 Then the long-suffering father rose from the table, 
 and in tones of passionate sorrow and anger cried 
 aloud " My God! My God! how can I bear this? 
 It is too much! It is beyond all but thy mercy." 
 His voice broke, and at the last sentence fell to an 
 intense whisper. 
 
 Annie was terrified. Never had she seen a man 
 under such strain and excitement. In her father such 
 emotion was an incredible thing. She ran to him, 
 clung to him, and with words drowned in sobs 
 begged him to forgive her. " I was a wicked woman 
 to name my trouble," she said. " I have tried, oh, 
 father, I have tried to forget it, for your sake. I 
 will never speak that name again in your presence. 
 I will not, father. I will be good, indeed I will! 
 Come and finish your tea. If you do not, you will 
 break my heart." She led him back to his chair, 
 and with a kiss promised she would try and weep 
 no more. 
 
 " Indeed, my dear lass," he answered, " if you 
 knew all, you would be praying for him, instead of 
 weeping after him."
 
 A Little Too Late 203 
 
 " Let me tell you something, father, and then 
 we will never name the subject again. Jane Forsyjh 
 told me yesterday that most people excused the tak- 
 ing of the letter. Some think it was only taken to 
 tease his brother, but that when he found out Will 
 was going to leave him, he kept the letter, to keep 
 Will. Some think the evidence against him not 
 clear. Lucky Hislop is old, nearly blind, and very 
 lazy; perhaps Lucky " 
 
 " Lucky is not to blame, the thief was his ain ac- 
 cuser to you." 
 
 " Yes, father, about that weary letter. But he 
 told me positive, and offered to swear to it, that 
 he did not blacken our name on Will's boat. I be- 
 lieve that he spoke the truth." 
 
 " I know that he lied, and it seems then, that he 
 was ready to swear to the lie. I have the most posi- 
 tive evidence that he did black out the name o' 
 Annie Brodick. I did not tell you of it, for you 
 were in sair trouble at the time, and God knows, my 
 dear bairn, I would not add a straw's weight to your 
 
 sorrow." 
 
 " You were good to me, and patient with me, 
 father, but now having said so much, you be to tell 
 me all you know." 
 
 " Very weel, I will. Maybe it is the right time 
 to do so. There is little good in saying smooth
 
 204 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 words when the bitter truth is required. This, then, 
 is the very truth, Annie : 
 
 " One day last Autumn I met the Widow Gibson 
 coming to the house for me. She said her little 
 Andrew was dying, and could not win away until 
 he could speak with me. The poor lad, you ken, 
 Annie, is an innocent, one o' God's bairns, and 
 though he had little sense everybody loved him. I 
 went with his mother to his bedside. He said he 
 had done a great sin the poor sinless laddie! and 
 he wanted to put the wrong right, then he wouldna 
 be feared that God would be angry 'wi' him. And 
 when I asked him what the wrong was, he confessed 
 that he had watched Roy Morrison black his 
 brother's boat name, and had taken a big silver 
 penny from Roy, not to tell any one about it. He 
 said, too, that he was feared of Roy, who had threat- 
 ened him with many awful deaths if he said a word. 
 He then told where the big silver penny was hid, 
 and asked me to put it in the Kirk plate for the 
 poor. So his mother went for the money " 
 
 "Did she find it?" 
 
 " Ay, she found it. It was hid in a wee box 
 among the thatch o* the cottage, and she brought it 
 to the dying lad, and he put it into my hand with 
 fingers that were almost clay. And I promised him
 
 A Little Too Late 205 
 
 all he asked, and prayed wi' him ; and he went away 
 smiling like those that die dreaming of heaven." 
 
 "I am glad to hear that, father; he has had a 
 sorrowful, painful life." 
 
 " Then I looked at the big siller penny, and it 
 was a false crown piece, not worth a bawbee; and 
 when I got home I threw it in the fire." 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 " Ay, I threw it in the fire, but the next Sabbath 
 I put a true honest crown in the Kirk plate for the 
 little laddie, then in heaven. But I told you noth- 
 ing at all, for at the particular time you were but 
 a bruised reed, and I did not want to hang your head 
 still lower. And I spoke to his mother also, and 
 bid her let the matter rest between herself and my- 
 self, and she said, * The matter lies between us two, 
 Deacon, I will pass it no further.' Do you now be- 
 lieve that Roy was innocent?" 
 
 " Alas, I must believe the very worst ! I know 
 well that wee Andrew would not lie, and him at the 
 point of death. But, father, I feel as if there was only 
 an abyss before me. Everything is drifting away, 
 there is no ground to stand on." 
 
 " Well, then," cried the Deacon in a kind of 
 ecstasy, " well, then, Annie, there is a sure founda- 
 tion, and you know what it is. My dear bairn, it
 
 206 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 is the ground we do not tread on which supports 
 us: 
 
 " ' The deep below the deep, 
 
 And the height beyond the height, 
 Where our hearing is not hearing, 
 And our seeing is not sight.' " 
 
 This was the beginning of forgetfulness. For 
 after little Andrew's confession, every possible ex- 
 cuse for sentimental sorrow was taken away from 
 Annie, and she gradually got the mastery over her- 
 self. And whether we will, or not, time, appointed 
 by God for the consolation of all grief, does obliter- 
 ate and heal. And as soon as Annie Brodick know- 
 ingly and consciously turned her face to " the hills 
 from which cometh our help" she was comforted; 
 comforted in prayer, in sleep, in work, in all her 
 household ways, until her sorrow was nearly a tale 
 of old unhappy far-off things. Then she realized 
 how foolish it had been, and how utterly useless, 
 since all her tears and fond regrets could never 
 make, 
 
 " the grass to grow, 
 On the trampled meadows of long ago."
 
 CHAPTER TEN 
 
 THE DEACON MARRIES AGAIN 
 
 ABOUT Christmas Mr. Saunders was married, and 
 Annie received wedding cards tied together with 
 white satin ribbons, and her portion of the wedding 
 cake in a little silvered box. She looked at the sym- 
 bols scornfully, and then put them out of her sight. 
 " I will not ask father a single question, about either 
 bride or groom," she said. " I am caring nothing 
 about them one way or another. I wonder if Mar- 
 ion was there. If so, she will be sure to tell jne all I 
 want to hear." 
 
 The Deacon seemed to have come to the same 
 resolution. His face and manner indicated a highly 
 successful visit, but he respected or resented his 
 daughter's apparent indifference, and did not trouble 
 her with any of the details of it. Still he talked to 
 others, and through others Annie learned how the 
 bride was dressed, what company were present, and 
 the immediate intentions of the newly married pair. 
 
 " Your father itemized every particular to Leslie 
 Kerr," said Mrs. Lochrigg with laughing contempt. 
 
 207
 
 208 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Not a bow or a button escaped him. I met Les- 
 lie coming from the shop yestreen, and I asked her 
 if she had been to the wedding, and she told me all 
 about it. A friend o' hers, she said, had been there, 
 and observed it circumstantially. So I questioned her 
 dry, and she answered free as a schoolgirl, adding 
 her own remarks forbye but they are too silly to 
 pass over to you." 
 
 "Have they gone away? Mr. Saunders was aye 
 talking of a visit to London." 
 
 " Mr. Saunders has just settled down in his own 
 home with his wife. They are a sensible Jack and 
 Jill. He preached his own Kirking sermon from his 
 own pulpit. A sagacious, prudent man. Leslie told 
 me your father stood up with him at the ceremony, 
 and that the young minister depends on his advice; 
 respecting him, and trusting him above all his 
 friends. Weel, a prophet has no honor among his 
 own folk, and nobody in Arran had found out Rob- 
 ert Brodick's wonderful gifts till Mr. Saunders 
 
 came." 
 
 " You must not say that, Aunt Lochrigg. Every- 
 one is respecting and relying on father here." 
 
 " To be sure. Your father is parfect humanity 
 specially among the women folk." 
 
 After this event the Winter wore away not un-
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 209 
 
 pleasantly, though Annie was sensible that some in- 
 definable change had taken place in her home. The 
 Deacon, though as affectionate as ever, was differ- 
 ent. His comings and goings had lost their regu- 
 larity. She saw him on the street twice with Leslie 
 Kerr, and she knew that he had begun to attend the 
 Kirk's social meetings, and even the " incredible 
 misery " of at least one musical entertainment. On 
 that occasion she had seen him talking to Miss 
 Grizelda Binnie, and Miss Grizelda herself had 
 been one of the performers. She had watched his 
 face during Miss Grizelda's singing of The Cove- 
 nanter's Lament, and been amazed at its emotion, for 
 she gave the credit of this emotion to the singer, 
 though it really belonged to the pathetic melody and 
 mournful words of the ancient lament. It was his 
 soul he heard singing, as if indeed it remembered 
 every note of the music, and every word of the song. 
 And with this strange intuitive knowledge, the ex- 
 quisite second-sight of memory showed him the 
 Covenanting martyrs praying in the wilderness, and 
 fighting on the battle field for The Word they loved 
 dearer than life. No wonder then that his eyes filled 
 with tears, and that he stood up with the men to 
 emphasize their undying veneration for the princi- 
 ples and the martyrs of whom Miss Binnie sang*
 
 2io The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "There's nae Cov'nant noo, lassie, 
 
 There's nae Cov'nant noo, 
 The holy League and Cov'nant 
 Is a' broken through. 
 
 "There's nae Renwick noo, lassie, 
 
 Nor good and great Cargill, 
 Nor holy Sabbath preaching 
 Upon the Martyrs' Hill." 
 
 Annie had been too instensely absorbed in her per- 
 sonal observations and feelings to understand the 
 enthusiasm of the audience, for men . and deeds in 
 the backward centuries. It was her father's love 
 affairs she was considering, and not the men of the 
 Bible and the sword, fighting as they prayed, and 
 praying as they fought. 
 
 But she made no untoward remarks. When her 
 father praised Miss Binnie's singing, she conceded 
 its excellence without apparent grudging; but she 
 did not sleep much that night, and early in the 
 morning she went to see Mrs. Lochrigg. 
 
 " Aunt," she said, " I want to talk to you." 
 
 " Very good. I'll lift my darning and take a few 
 stitches while you do so. Were you at the musical 
 last night?" 
 
 " Yes. I did not see you there." 
 
 "What for would I be there?" 
 
 "What for not?"
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 211 
 
 " If I could shut my ears, as well as my eyes, I 
 might thole the noise. But I canna." 
 
 " Miss Grizelda Binnie sang a song about the 
 Covenanters, and fairly wiled my father's heart 
 away." 
 
 " I wouldn't wonder. The Brodicks were all 
 Covenanters, bibles in their belts, swords in their 
 hands. That little lass o' Balmuto's would testify 
 that he was just remembering some of his past lives. 
 I wouldn't daur to say different." 
 
 " He was thinking o' this present life. I feel sure 
 he will marry that auld maid, and just for a song. 
 Men are queer." 
 
 " Ay, it is a small thing catches them a song on 
 the lips, a glint o' the eyes, a pawkey smile, a tidy 
 ankle, a bit o' bright ribbon, or maybe nothing 
 but a few gold pieces. Weel, weel, that's the way 
 it is ordered." 
 
 " It may be so, but if my father is going to make 
 a fool of himself in his old age, I must get out of 
 the way of it. I could not bear to see him playing 
 the fond, silly lover to Grizel Binnie; and her sitting 
 in my mother's place. The position is fairly un- 
 thinkable, and I will not stay here and see it." 
 
 " I'll tell you one thing, Annie, your father will 
 never play the silly lover. Don't you think it. He
 
 212 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 * 
 
 will be as discreet and dignified as if he was carry- 
 ing roung the Kirk box for the collection. And no 
 woman can ever take your mother's place. The first 
 wife is never second, or second-rate. The second 
 wife in this case is o' your own summoning." 
 
 " There is no need to tell me that. I know it. I 
 want your advice about the future." 
 
 " Yes, to be sure. What are you going to do? I 
 was hearing young Carrick the Duke's private 
 minister was sick in love with you, and dogging 
 your steps, and sending you hot-house flowers, and 
 making himself pleasant to your father in many ways 
 shooting and fishing privileges and the like o' 
 them getting favors from the Duke, ye ken. Losh, 
 lassie ! You seem to be a parfect temptation to the 
 ministers." 
 
 " Do be quiet, Aunt. You Know my heart is with 
 Roy, wherever he may be. It is not of lovers I want 
 to talk." 
 
 "Of what, then?" 
 
 " Making my living." 
 
 "Oh!" with a decided sniff. 
 
 " I have been preparing for this event all Winter." 
 
 " I believe you. If there's a prudent lass in 
 Arran, Annie Brodick is her name. Now, then, I 
 would like to know how you have been preparing."
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 213 
 
 " I have been writing constant to Miss Balmuto, 
 in the first place." 
 
 " If you are preparing for another world they 
 say it's a better world Marion is as good a director 
 as you'll find, but if you are thinking o' living out 
 your seventy years in this world, I fear she'll lead 
 you among mists and moors and will-o'-the-wisps." 
 
 ' You are mistaken, Aunt. Marion has a clear, 
 f arseeing mind about this world. She gave me good 
 advice, and I am going to take it." 
 
 "Then what for are you taking up my time?" 
 
 " This way if you endorse Marion's advice, I 
 shall go forward with double confidence and if you 
 do not endorse it, I shall go forward with tenfold 
 caution." 
 
 " I see. Speak your mind." 
 
 !< When father marries, I am going to Glasgow. 
 I will not look the second Mrs. Brodick in the face. 
 I do not want to know her name or anything about 
 her. I am going to rent a handsome first floor in 
 some West-End street or Crescent and open it for 
 fashionable dressmaking." 
 
 " Preserve us ! Annie." 
 
 " Miss Balmuto has promised me all her work and 
 influence. I know that I have a good business ready 
 to lift. I know where I can get a first-class fitter,
 
 214 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 and an artistic trimmer, and I have both skill and 
 taste myself." 
 
 "And the money necessary?" 
 
 " I have it. My mother gave me four hundred 
 and twenty pounds not long before she died. It 
 was all her own. Her mother left her two hundred 
 and sixty pounds, quiet-like, and she made it up to 
 four hundred and twenty pounds. She put it into 
 my hands one day, and after her death I put it in 
 the Bank of Scotland, and there it is to-day. It is 
 all my own, mother gave me it." 
 
 "Quiet-like?" 
 
 " Yes, and I promised her to keep it quiet-like for 
 some emergency. She said every woman ought to 
 have a bit of security in some good bank, for hus- 
 bands were sometimes untrustworthy securities." 
 
 " And you let Roy go to the mischief for the want 
 o' siller? You miserly cutty, why didn't you help 
 him?" 
 
 " Four hundred and twenty pounds would have 
 been no help to Roy, and he would have made it a 
 total loss to me. Do you think I would buy a hus- 
 band? It was Roy's duty to make an income and 
 a home. If he could not do it before we were mar- 
 ried, he never would have done it after. Little Roy 
 would have thought of my grandmother's and my
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 21$ 
 
 mother's hard savings for fifty years. He would 
 have flung them away in as many days. But even 
 so, I could not give Roy the money my solemn 
 promise to my dear mother bound me. You would 
 not have trusted Roy yourself with four hundred 
 and twenty pounds." 
 
 " You are right. I would not. Go on." 
 " I have told you my plan. I am ready any day 
 to carry it out, and Marion is ready to help me. I 
 have a list of the ladies who will patronize ' The 
 Brodick Fashion Rooms/ and to be plain with you, 
 Aunt, I wish now that father would marry the 
 woman he wants, and let me go free, and make the 
 money I know I can make. If I need more capital, 
 Marion says she will be glad to invest a few hun- 
 dred pounds with me." 
 
 " She will do nothing o' the kind. When a good 
 chance comes my way, I am not going to let Marion 
 Balmuto fish in my loch. I have five hundred 
 pounds that is not earning its salt three per cent., 
 and no more and I will be your partner, if you'll 
 take in a capable, careful woman like myself. The 
 firm will be called ' Lochrigg and Brodick Fashion- 
 able Modistes and Drapers.' We will hang a few 
 rich silks and laces in the front windows to speak 
 for us. Losh, lassie! we will do a quiet, dignified
 
 216 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 business that will gie us twenty per cent., maybe 
 fifty per cent., for our money. Are you willing? " 
 
 " I am more than willing. I am delighted and 
 very grateful to you." 
 
 " Lochrigg and Brodick ! Good names both o' 
 them. They'll look fine on a big brass plate on the 
 door. Now tell me about your fitter and trimmer, 
 and whatever other arrangements you have made." 
 
 "I will; also, I can show you the list of ladies 
 who have promised to give us their business they 
 are the cream and honey of Dr. Buchanan's fine 
 Kirk." 
 
 In the discussion that followed Annie was cool 
 and calm, and full of business acumen and compo- 
 sure, but Mrs. Lochrigg was quite excited and even 
 speculative. The prospect opened up to the eager, 
 clever woman a new life, with an almost certain as- 
 surance of enlarging her interests and profits. She 
 would hardly let Annie go home, and day after day 
 the two women sat hours together, perfecting and 
 enlarging their scheme'. And as it grew in magni- 
 tude, Mrs. Lochrigg's enthusiasm kept pace with it, 
 so that when the time came for its realization, she 
 was quite ready to make her five hundred pounds a 
 thousand. 
 
 Indeed, she began to grow restless about the Deacon
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 217 
 
 " shilly-shallying among three middle-aged women 
 who all knew their own minds, if he would only find 
 out where to throw the offer o' himsel' ; " and her 
 first inquiry, whenever she saw Annie, was, " What 
 way is the wind blowing now, Annie? Kerr Binnie 
 or McLean? Give me patience wi' such a lover as 
 Robert Brodick! He is as hard to tie to a woman 
 as if this was his first experience." 
 
 But Robert Brodick was not a man to be hurried 
 in such an important matter as the selection of a 
 wife. And after Mr. Saunders' marriage his atten- 
 tion to the two widows and to Miss Binnie seemed 
 rather to slacken than to increase. Then the Sum- 
 mer brought boarders and larger business, and An- 
 nie began to wonder if there was any truth or any 
 serious intention in her father's courtesy to the 
 women with whom his name had been associated. 
 
 " I think he has become frightened, Aunt Sarah," 
 she said. " Perhaps the Minister is not as happy 
 as he expected to be, and father thinks he had bet- 
 ter let well enough alone." 
 
 " And would you give up such an opportunity as 
 we have for a bit o' prudential selfishness on your 
 father's part?'* 
 
 " What else could I do ? As long as father de- 
 pends on me, I cannot leave him alone."
 
 218 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Parfect nonsense ! I'll not hear tell o' you sit- 
 ting wi' idle hands here when you could be making 
 money with every finger you have in Glasgow. I'll 
 never forgive you, Annie, if you disappoint me in 
 this matter. Mind that ! " 
 
 " I would be sorry if I had to do so, Aunt." 
 
 The words arrested her attention, and as soon as 
 she was alone she began to ask herself if they were 
 honest words. Would she be sorry to abandon her 
 plan? Would she be glad to retain her father's 
 whole affection, and her place as mistress of his 
 house? Which condition did she really desire? 
 She tried hard to reach the verity that is in the in- 
 ward part about this matter, shirking no like or dis- 
 like, trying every point of it, by an absolute demand 
 for the truth. And she was forced to confess that 
 she would be sorry to relinquish her business scheme, 
 that she would rather work it out to success, than 
 potter about Brodick House looking after the 
 homely duties her position as its mistress demanded. 
 
 In fact, she was aware of a certain anxiety because 
 her father and the Widow Kerr seemed less intimate, 
 and because he had not lately spoken of Miss Bin- 
 nie's fine singing, or Mrs. McLean's generous gifts 
 to the Kirk. Had he withdrawn himself from. the 
 danger of matrimony and gone back to his old con-
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 219 
 
 tentment with life? And were things to remain as 
 they were, as long as he lived, or she was unmar- 
 ried? She shrank from the prospect, and admitted 
 the shrinking. 
 
 As yet, however, Brodick showed few signs of 
 returning to the simple life which had once satisfied 
 him. He still went more frequently to the city than 
 his business required. He wrote many letters, and 
 was always anxious about the post, and Annie re- 
 membered well the days in which he hardly ever 
 wrote a letter, unless it was an order for goods. 
 She did not grudge him his correspondence with Mr. 
 Saunders and Professor Balmuto, for the privilege 
 seemed to make him exceedingly happy; what 
 chiefly troubled her was that she had lost her influ- 
 ence over him, and with it, his perfect confidence. 
 He talked little to her, no longer came for her 
 sympathy, no longer explained to her his small per- 
 plexities, hopes and plans, hardly ever told her the 
 bits of news or gossip he heard over his counter, and 
 she asked herself sadly, " If Roy's love had ever 
 been worth the price she had paid for it? " 
 
 The Summer passed rather wearily. There was 
 no active discomfort, and no real enjoyment. It was 
 hard work sometimes to bring the cheerful morning 
 face to the breakfast room, to make the place bright
 
 22O The Hands, of Compulsion 
 
 and comfortable, and set the table day after day 
 with a dainty nicety no one seemed to notice. That 
 was the sore, the slowly deepening sore, that hurt 
 Annie most of all her father's indifference to all 
 her efforts to please him. True, she had at one time 
 treated all his efforts to please, or comfort her, with 
 the same indifference; but oh, surely, a father's love 
 should forget, as well as forgive! Brodick, how- 
 ever, evidently feared to put himself near enough to 
 his daughter to be wounded again by her apathy 
 and carelessness. 
 
 " He's not like a loving father, but he is very like 
 a prudent Scot," said Mrs. Lochrigg, " and by what 
 I can make out from a dozen gossips, he has be- 
 come a monumental similitude o' prudence and po- 
 liteness to the hale feminine creation. But I have 
 news that may hurry him a bit, for I heard scarce an 
 hour ago that Miss Binnie was married last week 
 at the Bridge of Allan, and I wouldn't wonder if 
 that fact sends your father to the ring and the Min- 
 ister in double-quick time. He'll want to show the 
 Kirk full, and the town full, that he was never think- 
 ing o' Grizelda Binnie that would be a man's way 
 and Robert Brodick, though a deacon, is only a 
 
 man."
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 221 
 
 " Grizelda Binnie married! Who to, Aunt? " 
 
 " To a curate o' the Episcopal persuasion, no less, 
 and no mair. Think o' it I A born and baptized 
 Calvinist, married at the very horns o' the Episcopal 
 altar! I'm doubting if it is a lawful ceremony." 
 
 " I did not see it in the papers." 
 
 " It was in the papers, sure enough, just like any 
 tailor's or weaver's; but it was Jean Fidler that told 
 me. She has a fourth cousin at the Bridge of Allan, 
 and this cousin wrote the particulars to Jean's 
 mother; and by that way it came to me. She testi- 
 fied to the truth o' it. I asked if the full Episcopal 
 ceremony was used, and she said * no deviation was 
 observed on the occasion.' Now it is your father's 
 turn; he is sure to show folk he had no intention o' 
 making Miss Binnie the second Mrs. Brodick." 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. Lochrigg was right, and perhaps it 
 was only a coincidence, but it was hardly three days 
 after this conversation when an eventful one on the 
 same subject took place. Annie was sitting at the 
 open door sewing and crooning a song, and her 
 father came and stood beside her. She looked up 
 with a smile, and he said > 
 
 " Annie, my dear, you be to have a new dress. 
 There is going to be a wedding in the family."
 
 222 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 " Ay, I am going to be married mysel' on the 
 seventeenth o' this month." 
 
 " I cannot believe such a thing." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " How am I to bear the like o' that? " 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " A strange woman in the house mistress, you 
 know and where will I be? It is cruel. How- 
 ever could you think of such a thing? I am not able 
 to bear it." 
 
 ' You taught me to think o' it. You, yoursel', 
 Annie, put the thought o' marriage, and the necessity 
 o' marriage, into my mind. You let me see plainly 
 that I must give you up to Roy Morrison, and live 
 my lane, or else have a strange man whom I disliked 
 and distrusted always first at my table and fireside. 
 If it please God, my dear lassie, I may live a quarter 
 o' a century yet, and I want a friend and a compan- 
 ion to live with me. Because you love, must I be 
 without love?" 
 
 " I am always your daughter." 
 
 " Until you are married. Then you are some 
 man's wife first of all. I am not complaining. I 
 am only looking forward to the years that may come 
 to me."
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 223 
 
 " And who is to be your friend and companion ? 
 Is it Leslie Kerr?" 
 
 " I never thought a moment o' Mrs. Kerr. I am 
 not carin' for a frivolous woman." 
 
 " Miss Binnie, I hear, is married." 
 
 " I know. She has been long* engaged. The 
 Episcopal creed stood between her and the man she 
 loved. I finally convinced her there was no sin in 
 marrying out o' her ain Kirk. She has got a good 
 man, ten years older than hersel'." 
 
 " Surely you are not thinking to marry Widow 
 McLean?" 
 
 Brodick smiled grimly. 
 
 " When I am tired o' peace and content and good 
 days I will marry the Widow McLean, Annie. Not 
 until." 
 
 ' Then who are you going to marry? " 
 
 " Mr. Saunders' mother, a pleasant, sensible wo- 
 man, not many years younger than I am. For every 
 virtue, she is a woman in ten thousand." 
 
 " I have no doubt you have chosen wisely, father, 
 and I have nothing to say. You must do your own 
 pleasure." 
 
 " She is a good, affectionate woman, and you will 
 be the better of some one to talk to you. I make 
 no question but that we shall all of us be the hap-
 
 224 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 pier for her in the house. How much money will 
 you want for a dress, and all things fitting? " 
 
 " I want no money, father. If I have lost the 
 first place in your heart and home, I will not take 
 your money. I do not know Mrs. Saunders. I do 
 not wish to know her. I will not go to see her made 
 your wife, and my step-mother. No, indeed ! " 
 
 " Are you going to make fresh trouble for me? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " We shall be away three weeks. I expect you 
 will have all pleasant and comfortable for our home- 
 coming." 
 
 " I will see to it." 
 
 "Annie, can't you be pleasanter about the 
 change ? " 
 
 " No, I cannot." 
 
 " Weel, I'm sorry." 
 
 That was all. 
 
 Ten days after this conversation the Deacon went 
 away with a happy gravity, that would have become 
 a bridegroom twenty years younger, and Annie went 
 dourly about the house, putting this and that into 
 their proper places. She was glad the strain was 
 over, the last ten days had been hard to bear. For 
 she could not but feel that she was outside her 
 father's life, and that it was beyond her power to
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 225 
 
 take in it the place to which his marriage would rele- 
 gate her. So she made no propositions, nor ex- 
 pressed any curiosity, and the Deacon concluded she 
 had resolved to accept circumstances beyond her con- 
 trol. 
 
 If he had been in a condition to examine himself, 
 he would never have come to such an easy solution 
 of his household problem. He would have known 
 his child's mind by his own mind, and been certain 
 that the acceptance of a lower place in his heart and 
 home was an impossible compliance to her. The 
 cold calm of her face, the poise of certainty in her 
 manner, the absence of all apparent anger, would 
 have certified him that she was ready for some act 
 which would be an adequate restoration of her self- 
 respect and welfare. But a man in love is partially 
 a blind man; he sees only in one direction, and 
 reasons only from one premise, and at this time his 
 daughter was beyond the horizon of the woman he 
 was going to marry. 
 
 If Annie did not reason out this condition, she 
 felt it; and having put into order the rooms disar- 
 ranged by the confusion of packing and dressing, 
 she sat down to consider her circumstances, stripping 
 them of all illusions that might embarrass or deceive 
 her displaced by a stranger thrust out from her
 
 226 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 father's love and her life-long home forced into 
 the world to make her own home and her own living 
 by the cruel hands of a compelling fate she looked 
 the uttermost results squarely in the face and flinched 
 not. Far from it, for having done so, she rose 
 quickly and resolutely to her feet: 
 
 " I have no time to lose," she said. " I must be 
 about what I have to do. My duty in this house is 
 almost finished. I will see Aunt Sarah, and be away 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Just as she reached this decision, Sarah Lochrigg 
 called her, and she hurriedly answered the summons 
 in person. " He is gone," she said, and the words 
 filled her eyes with tears, and gave her a sense of 
 strangling. 
 
 " I know, Annie. I met him stepping down the 
 street as if land and water was all his own. He is 
 fairly silly about the woman he is going for. I hope 
 he'll find her half or a quarter o' what his fancy 
 paints her." 
 
 " I want to go to Glasgow to-morrow, Aunt, if 
 you will do my last duty for me." 
 
 " I don't know what is it? " 
 
 " He charged me strictly, to have the house made 
 pretty and comfortable for their home-coming in 
 three weeks after the marriage."
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 227 
 
 " Three weeks ! What for three weeks? " 
 
 " They are going to London." 
 
 " Preserve us ! London ! What will he do in 
 London?" 
 
 " Just sightseeing." 
 
 " And love-making." 
 
 " Maybe so." 
 
 " I had a few words with him, and he asked me to 
 come and comfort you a bit. He said when your 
 new mother came " 
 
 " Hold there, Sarah. I have one mother, and to 
 me she is not dead. She lives forever." 
 
 " Ay, ay, but he meant it kindly. It is to be a 
 big wedding, I hear her son is to marry them 
 in his Kirk after the morning service think o' 
 that ! the whole congregation as witnesses ! " 
 
 " I can hardly believe it ! I thought father was 
 a shy, modest-like man." 
 
 11 He is in the natural and general way; but men 
 in love are a blend o' the bird called peacock and 
 the beast called lion. We shall see the full account, 
 no doubt, in the Scotsman, and the rest o' the irre- 
 ligious papers." 
 
 " I shall not read a word of it. Now, Aunt, take 
 my place here, and put the house in company trim, 
 and let me go and look after our affairs. We must
 
 228 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 open the business in September, and there is no time 
 to lose." 
 
 " You are right. Go your ways to-morrow, and 
 I'll sort everything here house and table and neigh- 
 bors' tongues. And don't carry a care out o' the 
 past into the future. Leave every dark thought be- 
 hind you." 
 
 "That is exactly what I mean to do. It seems 
 father can do without me ; well, then, I must learn to 
 do without him." 
 
 " And put a brave heart to a steep hill, and you'll 
 find good fortune at the top o* it; no doubt o' that." 
 
 " Still, it is hard, Sarah, to feel that it is your 
 father's hands that are pushing you into the world." 
 
 " It is a* good for you, Annie. You are o'er 
 narrow; go into the world, and you'll see further in 
 a year than you dream of now." 
 
 So the next day Annie left her home forever. 
 Not without sorrowful prayer and bitter tears; not 
 without doubts, and a great sense of wrong; but yet 
 in the swirl and rush of this tide of feeling, holding 
 with a steady hand the vestal fire of conscience, high 
 above the turbulent flood. It was a lovely day, and 
 the old house that kept like a book the memory of 
 those who had lived in it seemed at parting mo- 
 ment inexpressibly beautiful and dear. Then some
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 229 
 
 of Marion Balmuto's teachings came into her mem- 
 ory, and she stood a minute with the open gate in 
 her hand, and whispered to the Spirit of her race and 
 family "Farewell to your pleasant rooms! I 
 shall come back some day if not in this life, then in 
 some other." 
 
 Marion had been informed of her plans, and she 
 received an affectionate welcome. And that night 
 business was not named, for the conversation drifted 
 naturally to her father's marriage, and the changes 
 it had made. And Annie, as yet uncomforted by 
 Sarah Lochrigg's worldlywise counsels, and financial 
 help, laid bare to the kindly Professor all the wounds 
 of her heart. He understood her grief, and saw in 
 it and made Annie see in it many compensations. 
 
 " My dear," he said, " the log of this fleshly body 
 burns only when there is sacrifice, nothing less will 
 kindle it into flame." 
 
 " Sir, I have been compelled to sacrifice everything 
 I love even my home. For if I had remained 
 there, offences must have come, and my father must 
 have stood with his wife. Do you not see that I 
 would have brought contention and unhappiness into 
 a happy home? " 
 
 " I see. I see plainly. And to give up your own 
 right for the happiness of others is a grand sacrifice,
 
 230 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Annie. For you must now find out what care means, 
 and work, and watching, and perhaps injustice and 
 unkindness. And in this sacrifice, your brain and 
 heart, your feet and hands, must take their part ; and 
 thus you make of your carnal body an acceptable 
 sacrifice; give all your members, as it were, their 
 passion history; and so imitate the Great Sacrifice, 
 which we adoringly remember and imitate." 
 
 " But, sir, I did not freely give up my father, my 
 home, and my life of ease and leisure. Forces I 
 could not disobey really compelled me to resign 
 them, and this resignation was bitterly against my 
 will." 
 
 " Annie, in my seventy years of life I have come 
 to the absolute belief that all which happens to a 
 child of God, happens for the best. Whatever has 
 come to me, whatever has been given to me, has 
 proved to be the thing / needed, the thing worth 
 having. My troubles and entanglements have al- 
 ways come from my own will and way, and my own 
 choosing. I assure you that the Hands of Compul- 
 sion are also the Hands of Compassion. They are 
 guiding, guarding, giving Hands. Put your own 
 small, helpless hands into them, and you will be 
 lifted up and strengthened for all you have to do." 
 
 And then Marion sent a glance of such heavenly
 
 The Deacon Marries Again 231 
 
 hope into her friend's face that Annie could no 
 longer fear or doubt. The austere sweetness of sac- 
 rifice was fully realized, as she sat alone that night. 
 She understood that any life which progresses must 
 learn the meaning of a crisis of turning points, 
 which raise material existence above the process of 
 getting hungry and eating, and of getting tired and 
 sleeping; redeeming events, which set afresh the 
 rudder of conduct, and lift daily life into wider 
 horizons, and loftier experiences.
 
 CHAPTER ELEVEN 
 ANNIE'S NEW LIFE 
 
 AT the end of the three weeks nominated, the Deacon 
 and his bride came home. The old place was in all 
 its Autumn glory, and at the open door Mrs. Loch- 
 rigg stood, with beaming face and outstretched hand, 
 to welcome them. The Deacon was in his happiest 
 mood, and the little lady at his side looked as if she 
 had been born smiling, and knew not how to do any- 
 thing else. Sarah read her through in five minutes 
 " a good-hearted, good-natured wee wife," she 
 thought, " who will get her ain way and the whole 
 o' it wi* smiles, or some such like cajolery." It 
 was, however, Mrs. Brodick who first audibly noticed 
 Annie's absence, and asked, " Where is Annie ? I 
 was expecting to see the lassie to-day." 
 
 "You will be disappointed," answered Sarah; 
 " Annie is in Glasgow." 
 
 "What a pity she did not let us know, then we 
 could have come home together." 
 
 Sarah did not answer, and the Deacon turned the 
 
 conversation. He was both anxious and curious, 
 
 232
 
 Annie's New Life 233 
 
 but he did not permit himself the satisfaction of any 
 inquiry. But when Sarah was ready to go to her 
 own home, he put on his hat, and said he would con- 
 voy her, muttering as he did so something about 
 " the dark night, and drunken sailor men." 
 
 Mrs. Lochrigg regarded him scornfully. " Man 
 Robert ! " she answered, " what for are you bring- 
 ing in drunk men? You know fine I am feared for 
 no man drunk or sober. It would have suited you 
 far better to say, I want to know the meaning o' 
 Annie's absence." 
 
 ' There are other things I want to know, also, 
 Sarah; but your reproof is just, and I deserve it. 
 I'll go and tell Jean I shall be awa' an hour, and then 
 you can inform me what Annie and yourseP have 
 been up to, as I walk home wi' you." 
 
 So he went to Mrs. Brodick, who was in her room 
 changing her dress, and Sarah could not avoid hear- 
 ing the soft, loverlike tones of his voice, nor the 
 kiss with which their parting was made. 
 
 " It's fairly imbecile and scandalous," she mut- 
 tered; " little kissing went on between him and poor 
 Grace. I'm thankful I didn't marry the man 
 kissing, indeed! and * What did you say, darling?' 
 and * I'll be back anon ! ' and * Don't worry yourseP, 
 my dearest.' God Almighty ! What fool was it who
 
 234 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 said men grew wiser as they grew older? Perfect, 
 ridic'lous nonsense. If there's a woman in the case, 
 an old fool will sail all round a young one " 
 then stepping briskly forward, she called out 
 lustily : 
 
 " Are you coming, Robert Brodick? Your way o* 
 telling Jean is that long and wearisome I'm not 
 able to wait on it. I'll be going." 
 
 " Anon, Sarah, anon." 
 
 He overtook her at the gate, and she said, sar- 
 castically, " You have learned some new ways o* 
 saying * I'll be back in an hour.' ' 
 
 " I have learnt many things lately, Sarah. One 
 of them seems to be that I have an unloving, dis- 
 obedient daughter." 
 
 " Faults are thick, when love is thin, but I am 
 not listening to anything against Annie. She is a 
 good, brave girl. She left a letter for you in your 
 desk. You'll perhaps find time to read it within a 
 month or two." 
 
 "Are you angry, Sarah?" 
 
 " I'm not pleased, but the circumstances have been 
 turned very favorable." 
 
 " Is Annie at Dr. Balmuto's?" 
 
 " Annie is in her ain home." 
 
 "God help her I Is she married?"
 
 Annie's New Life 235 
 
 " You might well pray for her if she was mar- 
 ried but she is not married." 
 
 " I had a moment's fear o' Roy." 
 
 " Ridic'lous ! Annie is o'er like yoursel' to marry 
 anybody but some bit o' parfection." 
 
 " You are right there, Sarah. Jean is as nearly 
 parfect as women ever get to be. When you know 
 her you will say the same." 
 
 " Not I ; I would not risk either my judgment, or 
 my truth-telling on anybody's parfection. Have you 
 forgotten again ? Losh ! but you can put her out o' 
 your thoughts wi' a word." 
 
 " I am loving Annie, dear as ever, but she has be- 
 haved badly to me. I told her to get the house in 
 order, and I specified the time we would be home, 
 and I expected her to meet us as a good daughter 
 should." 
 
 " I don't pretend to know how good daughters 
 should meet step-mothers. I am sure Annie obeyed 
 her conscience in all things, and as to the house, what 
 was wrong with it ? I thought it prettier, and more 
 comfortable, than I had ever before seen it." 
 
 " Just so, but I want to know where she got money 
 to buy those two large handsome chairs, and the new 
 carpet, not to speak o' the lace curtains, and other 
 bits o' household finery."
 
 236 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "Weel, Robert, they were my wedding present 
 to you and Jean. Goodness knows, your old car- 
 pet was faded and worn, your old curtains full of 
 bits o' Annie's darning, and your ancient chairs were 
 curiosities. And I know well that when women are 
 up in years they like a big soft, easy chair; and you 
 yoursel' are not behind any elderly woman in that 
 respect. So I just gave you both the wedding gifts 
 most likely to add to your personal satisfaction wP 
 life." 
 
 " Thank you, Sarah. I am proud o' your consid- 
 eration, and your gifts ; but I must tell you that Jean 
 is not what you may call ' elderly,' she's just forty- 
 nine, or thereabouts." 
 
 " Thereabouts is an ample word ; it will cover all 
 discrepancies. I see you are not caring to talk about 
 Annie." 
 
 * You know that I am with you now for that very 
 purpose. You said she had her ain home, where 
 did she get it?" 
 
 " In one o' the fine West End crescents 26 Kel- 
 vinbrae Terrace." 
 
 "And the money necessary? Did you give her 
 it?" 
 
 "When did you know o' me giving away money? 
 I get value for every penny piece I part with."
 
 Annie's New Life 237 
 
 "Well, then, who gave Annie money?" 
 "Her grandmother Fleming, and her mothet 
 Brodick. Her grandmother left over two hundred 
 pounds, and her mother pretty nigh doubled the 
 
 sum." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that my wife Grace 
 had four hundred pounds or thereabouts hid 
 away beyond my knowledge ? " 
 
 " Ay, just so. It was first of all given to her with 
 a solemn promise not to speak o' it to any one, but 
 if not needed in her own case for any extremity, to 
 pass it quietly on to Annie, in case some * extremity ' 
 came in her life when it would help her. It came in 
 handy for Annie's extremity." 
 
 " There's no plumming a woman's mind, and no 
 finding out their secret ways. I am simply dum- 
 f ounded. But Jean will be honest wi' me ; yes, Jean 
 will be clear and honest. I'm sure o' that." 
 
 " Keep your faith in Jean if you can." 
 
 " But whatever made Annie rent a house in Kel- 
 vinbrae? Rents are stupendous round that neigh- 
 borhood. I hope she isn't thinking o' taking lodgers 
 or boarders. Such a like thing would grieve and 
 humiliate Jean, and also Mr. Saunders." 
 
 " Neither Annie nor I took the Saunders family 
 into our consideration. Why should we?"
 
 238 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Because it would have been right and kind." 
 
 " We were not thinking o' being kind, we were 
 full o' our ain interests at the time. And I can tell 
 you, a woman can do worse than let her rooms, or 
 cook a good meal for strangers willing to pay for it. 
 However, your indignation is thrown awa' in this 
 respect, for Annie has not a thought o' letting her 
 rooms, or of keeping boarders." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " You must have known, if you ever took notice 
 o' the lassie, that she had a simply wonderful gift wi' 
 her needle. She made all the dresses and cloaks in 
 your house, after she was twelve years old, and I 
 never yet saw the dressmaker who could give the 
 touch, and the air o' distinct grace and gentility, like 
 Annie Brodick could. Marion Balmuto says her 
 fine taste is most extraordinar. And, taste is every- 
 thing ! You can buy skill, but fine taste is a natural- 
 born gift." 
 
 " Taste isn't a moral quality. I know nothing 
 about it." 
 
 " Yet it is from yoursel' Annie gets her fine taste. 
 Well, you know whether your coats and vests are in 
 good taste, or out o' it, and I never knew any one 
 harder to please wi' his hats than Robert Brodick. 
 Man! I have known you to go to Gillray's three
 
 Annie's New Life 239 
 
 days running to choose a hat, and come awa' on the 
 third day dissatisfied. Taste ! You know fine what 
 good taste is." 
 
 " Am I to understand that she is going to make 
 dresses for Marion Balmuto and the like o' her? " 
 
 " Ay, you may understand that much, and perhaps 
 a good deal mair. In a couple o' days she will open 
 the finest Fashion Parlor in Glasgow. I wish you 
 could just cast your eyes o'er her sale and reception 
 room, wi' its handsome furnishings and long mirrors, 
 and the rich silks and velvets, and satins and lace, 
 gloves and silk stockings to match and " 
 
 " Hold a minute, Sarah, you are dreaming." 
 
 44 1 ant as wide awake as you are." 
 
 " Silks, satins, velvets, laces, these things cost 
 gold." 
 
 " To be sure but for a while she will sell them on 
 commission. In a year or less she will sell her ain 
 goods, and have the full profit on them." 
 
 " On commision ? but she would have to give big 
 security." 
 
 " Ay, Dr. Balmuto and Sarah Lochrigg managed 
 that part o' the business." 
 
 44 If Annie fails, it will hurt my reputation every 
 
 way." 
 
 Annie will not fail. Do you think I would have
 
 240 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 put a thousand pounds into a failure? I hope you 
 have a better opinion of Sarah Lochrigg than 
 that." 
 
 " A thousand pounds ! " 
 
 " Ay, I am in the firm, as it were, and I know what 
 I am doing. Failure is out o' our line. I'm going 
 to get twenty per cent, on this investment perhaps 
 more. And my presence will give a kind o' respect- 
 ability and assurance." 
 
 " Your appearance is not in the fashion, I should 
 say." 
 
 " Don't fash yourself about my appearance. 
 When I am in Glasgow, I shall be dressed up to the 
 nines silk and velvet material, fine taste, tip-top 
 style, for now and then I'll be standing in place o' 
 Annie. It isn't likely I am going to let a woman so 
 bonnie, and so young, go down to the wholesale 
 houses, where the men are old, and not to be trusted; 
 but they will try no cantrips wi' Sarah Lochrigg." 
 
 "Weel, Sarah, you have taken my breath from 
 me. I feel as if I could never wonder again at any- 
 thing. How long have you and Annie been plotting 
 and planning against me?" 
 
 " Since you began plotting and planning for an- 
 other wife. We had plenty of time, for you were 
 as hard to suit with a wife as you are with a hat.
 
 Annie's New Life 241 
 
 That day you went for your wife, Annie told me that 
 Marion Balmuto had secured patrons, and a proper 
 house for her, and she was ready to begin and work 
 for her living. I liked her patience, and her pru- 
 dent ways, and as I had a little money nearly idle, 
 and wanted the stir o' the city now and then, I of- 
 fered mysel' as her partner, and she had the sense 
 to take the offer gladly, and we shall neither of us 
 regret it." 
 
 " You would not help Roy." 
 
 " I would not throw money away." 
 
 "Where is Roy?" 
 
 " God knows. Will traced him to London then 
 lost sight and sound o' the poor lad." 
 
 "Where is Will?" 
 
 " Still on the Mediterranean liner. He is to be 
 promoted soon. Will is all right, and doing mid- 
 dling well. Now, then, the first time you visit Glas- 
 gow, go and see Annie. 
 
 " I will not. It is Annie's place to come and see 
 me, and her stepmother." 
 
 " She cannot come to you she will be needed in 
 her place constant, and she says she will never see 
 her stepmother." 
 
 " She is a dour, stiff-necked, disobedient child. 
 But she'll come to me. I'll never go to her."
 
 242 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Never is not for mortal man, or woman, to say." 
 "When are you going to Glasgow?" 
 " If all is well, I'm going on Monday. Here we 
 are at my house door. Go back to your Jean, and 
 ask her. I think she will bid you call on Annie at 
 once." 
 
 u I am sure she will leave the question to my own 
 sense o' right.' 
 
 " Then she'll be a queer kind o' woman. Just 
 think o' the convenience Annie might be to her, in 
 the way o' handsome gowns. Tut-tut! no woman 
 would let such an opportunity go by her, for the sake 
 o' a few kind words. Jean will make you see that 
 it is your duty to call on your daughter." 
 
 " Jean has nothing of such a selfish, scheming na- 
 ture. Jean will pay full price for all she wears. I'll 
 see to that." 
 
 " You're in the glorified atmosphere o* a newly 
 married man, Robert. You think you can do every- 
 thing with your wife, and your wife will finally do 
 everything wlith you. Good-night, Robert." 
 " You are a provoking creature, Sarah." 
 " Ay, it is a provoking world. Haste you home 
 
 " I'm no feared, Sarah. Jean is a sensible wo- 
 man. Good-night."
 
 Annie's New Life 243 
 
 And as " all was well " on the following Monday, 
 and the weather exceptionally fine, Sarah carried out 
 her purpose of going to Glasgow. She was in a 
 pleasant mood of self-congratulation, for she was 
 reflecting, as she travelled to the city, how few 
 women at her age would have the strength of char- 
 acter to enter upon a new life with radically different 
 interests and sources of profit. She felt that she was 
 leaping beyond her own shadow; and daring the 
 larger horizon of a city woman, and a woman of 
 business with city women. And the thought was ex- 
 hilarating to her. 
 
 She found Annie dressing the windows of her 
 show room, and was delighted with her taste and 
 judgment. Annie also was happy and sanguine, and 
 as she went about putting laces and gloves and rib- 
 bons into their proper receptacle, she chatted pleas- 
 antly of their bright prospects, and the orders and 
 promises already received. But she did not name her 
 father, or her home, and her reticence in this respect 
 soon became oppressive to Sarah, and she said 
 sharply: ' Why are you not asking about your ain 
 folk?" 
 
 " I knew you would tell me all worth telling, when 
 you felt like it." 
 
 " Weel, then, I'll tell you now, and be by with it.
 
 244 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 As to your father and his new wife, they came home 
 cooing like a pair o' turtle doves, and they were 
 pleased with the house, and what had been done to 
 it." 
 
 "Did father ask for me?" 
 
 " Your stepmother did. I said you had made 
 your home in Glasgow, and the subject went by for 
 the hour. But as your father convoyed me hame, I 
 told him everything, and for the life o' me, I cannot 
 yet decide what he thought, or what he felt. Only, 
 he said plainly he would not come to see you until 
 you had been to see your new mother." 
 
 " Do not call her my * new mother ' again, Sarah. 
 I am not liking it." 
 
 " And pray how will you alter the fact ? You 
 be to accept it, whether you like it or not. Things 
 have sorted themselves about as your father wanted 
 them even better. He had set his heart on having 
 the Rev. Mr. Saunders for a son-in-law, and he has 
 got him for a stepson; and hearing and seeing htm- 
 sel' called * Father ' constant by the popular young 
 man." 
 
 " I cannot believe that." 
 
 " Weel, I'll swear to it. There were letters wait- 
 ing him and bride when they won home, and your 
 father read his aloud; it began, ' My dear and much-
 
 Annie's New Life 245 
 
 respected Father.' And pretty soon she read aloud 
 from her letter this message from the stepson ' Tell 
 father I will send the papers regularly, and also the 
 new Hymns and Paraphrases as soon as they are out 
 of the printers' hands.' Now, then, what are you 
 going to do, or say, to offset such flattering words? 
 His ' dear respected father ' was mightily pleased 
 with them. I can tell you that much." 
 
 " I shall neither do nor say anything. Father 
 knows me. He knows I love and respect him. He 
 cannot forget me." 
 
 " I would not build on that faith very high. 
 The second Mrs. Brodick is as bonnie a woman as 
 you could meet in a day's walk." 
 
 "Then she is pretty?" 
 
 " Ay, very much so, for her years. She has 
 brown hair wi' the wave o' a curl in it, and soft 
 brown eyes, and a trig figure, and a little foot, and a 
 light step; forbye a smile, and a voice that could 
 win her way straight through any man's heart. I 
 don't love the woman, but it would be gey easy to 
 love her; for I'm sure she is straightforward and 
 good-hearted. Your father has had his usual luck, 
 and got much more than he had any right to 
 expect." 
 
 " Did they go to the Kirk together? "
 
 246 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Ay, they did that." 
 
 " Father always left mother and myself to follow 
 him." 
 
 " He will doubtless fall into the lonesome way be- 
 fore long, but it was a pleasant sight to watch them 
 come linking up to the Kirk door. She was bonnily 
 dressed, and the Kirk was as full as if it was a sac- 
 ramental occasion, or a missionary service wi' real 
 missionaries on the platform." 
 
 "What did she wear?" 
 
 " A puce-colored satin gown, and a little white 
 lace bonnet, and if you can believe it a white 
 lace shawl." 
 
 "Sarah!" 
 
 " And white kids on her hands. It's simple truth 
 I'm telling you. Your father carried his white 
 gloves, and I wish you could have seen Elder Ruth- 
 ven's face. He showed a parfect contempt for the 
 Deacon." 
 
 " There was no necessity for any one's contempt. 
 Father did the right thing. Contempt is not for 
 Deacon Brodick. Let us drop the subject. We 
 have our own affairs to discuss." 
 
 They soon found these more than sufficient. 
 Marion Balmuto, in a fine equipage, called early, and 
 she was followed by a constant stream of visitors.
 
 Annie's New Life 247 
 
 The next day, and many days afterwards, were 
 equally busy; and it became necessary for Sarah 
 handsomely gowned to take her place at the desk. 
 She filled it to perfection. " I have simply stepped 
 into my proper work," she said, and she did not go 
 back to Arran for a month. The business was then 
 on a good foundation, and Sarah was suffering to 
 report her experiences to Robert Brodick and many 
 others. 
 
 It does not take a sensible life long to accommo- 
 date itself to new surroundings Annie was not un- 
 happy. She had a moderated passion for money- 
 making, and she liked to invent and bring to beauti- 
 ful perfection garments ideally lovely and graceful. 
 Invitations of all kinds were soon extended to her, 
 but she wisely stood on her business position, and ac- 
 cepted hospitalities from no one but the Balumtos. 
 But Marion had need of friendship at this time, for 
 she was to marry Mr. Crieff at the New Year, and 
 it was only with Annie she cared to discuss the great 
 change she was approaching. The first information 
 given in these confidences was a little astonishing. 
 " When you meet James, Annie, you will now have 
 to call him Lord Crieff." 
 
 " Is he really a lord? " 
 
 " A great lord, and like to be greater."
 
 248 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Why did he not take his title when we first knew 
 him?" 
 
 ** That troubled me, Annie. I felt as if I had 
 been deceived, and I wished to break our engage- 
 ment, but grandfather said he had done well and 
 right. Still, I wish that I had been told all the 
 truth, when he first asked me to marry." 
 
 "When did he tell you?" 
 
 " Last Winter his elder brother had an accident 
 and became paralyzed. He was slowly dying, and 
 the Earl of Crieff entreated James to come home. 
 So he gave up everything and went north. The 
 family needed him much, for Lord Hector was help- 
 less, and the earl himself a sick man. The estate 
 also was suffering for want of proper supervision, 
 and James saw that his duty lay with his own fam- 
 ily. He was grieved to resign his mission work, but 
 he knew that the duties God had set were more bind- 
 ing on him than those he had chosen for himself. I 
 did not see him again until his brother was dead." 
 
 " And he was then heir to the earldom? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " So you will some day become Countess Crieff? " 
 
 " If I live." 
 
 " I am sorry he won your love in a false position." 
 
 " So am I, and at first I could see nothing but the
 
 Annie's New Life 249 
 
 deception, but grandfather says he did right not to 
 go down to the poor as a lord." 
 
 " He ought at least to have told your grandfather 
 when he asked his permission to woo you? " 
 
 " He did tell grandfather, and it seems that grand- 
 father had long suspected his identity. I was angry 
 at being kept in the dark, for I believed James had 
 been silent because he wished to be sure that I loved 
 him for himself. As if I cared for any earthly title I 
 I, that would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of 
 my God than dwell in the palaces of kings." 
 
 " What did you say to him when he did speak of 
 his real rank? " 
 
 " I took our engagement ring from my finger and 
 gave it back to him. There was trouble in the house 
 for a week, and then I accepted the noble, in place 
 of the preacher. It is my destiny the road laid 
 out for me the very road that will lead me home." 
 
 " But you wish to marry Lord Crieff ? " 
 
 " If I must marry yes. I had hoped that joy- 
 ful and sorrowful experience was finished. It seems 
 not quite." 
 
 Annie looked up doubtfully, curiously, not sure 
 what to say, and Marion added, "If you have read 
 understandingly the Sacred Word, you must remem- 
 ber the positive promise of the Lord Jesus Christ
 
 250 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 * The children of this world marry and are given in 
 marriage, but they that shall be counted worthy to 
 obtain that world, and the resurrection from the 
 dead, neither marry nor are given in marriage. 
 Neither can they die any more, for they are equal 
 unto the Angels, and are the children of God.' 
 (Luke Chap. 20. v. 34-36.) You see, Annie, when 
 we are worthy to escape marriage, we shall be as the 
 Angels, we shall not be reincarnated again, we shall 
 die no more, we shall be children of God, and remain 
 in our Father's house forever." 
 
 " But God appointed marriage, Marion." 
 " It is a grand spiritual school, the best of all 
 schools. I have to go there again; there is some 
 lesson for me to learn that can only be learned in it. 
 The angel of my life knows best. I take the road 
 laid out it will prove the nearest way home." 
 " And you are glad to take it with Lord Crieff ? " 
 " Yes, very glad. He understands me." 
 " As we are talking of your marriage, let me show 
 you an exquisite piece of white satin fit for a mar- 
 riage gown, and some lace that is a miracle of 
 beauty. Where do you go for your honeymoon?" 
 " We go straight to Crieff Castle. There is work 
 for me to do there, comfort to speak, help to give, 
 something to accomplish, or to suffer, before I go
 
 Annie's New Life 251 
 
 hence. So much I know, the rest will be shown to 
 me. It is all well." 
 
 Such conversations were frequent, and Annie 
 glided over them as easily as possible. She gave to 
 Marion a warm and perfect gratitude, but the feeling 
 could hardly be called friendship. The women were 
 too radically different, and, besides, true friendship 
 has no acquaintance with gratitude. Still they were 
 never many days apart, and Annie learned to love 
 without understanding, very much as a child loves 
 without asking itself 'why?' 
 
 And Annie's life was soon a busy one. Every week 
 saw fresh additions to the number of her work- 
 women, and before November a professional book- 
 keeper had been installed in Sarah's place. For dur- 
 ing the Winter months Sarah came less frequently to 
 Glasgow, but she stayed longer when she did come, 
 and these visits were alway times of refreshment to 
 Annie. They renewed her in every direction, and 
 kept fresh and firm that sacred bond which tied her 
 to the kindred she had apparently denied. 
 
 For Sarah was an absolutely truthful woman. 
 She did not love the second Mrs. Brodick, but she 
 scorned not to give her the praise due her. Frankly 
 enough, she mocked at the Deacon's idolatry of his 
 Jean, but with equal frankness admitted the woman
 
 252 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 deserved it. " She's the sweetest-tempered creature 
 in the world," she said one day, " and if it is ever 
 lawful to be a stepmother, she could show her cre- 
 dentials for the almost impossible office. Every one 
 praises her, Annie, that's a fact." 
 
 " And every one blames me, I suppose, for run- 
 ning away from such a paragon." 
 
 " Ay, they do. Some people say things you would 
 not like, but I always tell them to * mind their own 
 business until they grow sense enough to attend to 
 other people's.' You are owing none of them any- 
 thing in the way o' a back word. I have lifted them 
 all, and they are paid in full. You see, Annie, I 
 wear one o' my silk gowns very constant now, and a 
 silk gown on a weekday downs and dumbs them a 
 bit. They will take from a woman in silk what 
 they would fling back like stones to a woman in a 
 linsey petticoat that's human nature a snobbish, 
 cowardly nature it is." 
 
 " Not always." 
 
 " Weel, in the general. I'm not including our ain 
 families, of course. Dear knows, it's a good thing 
 for Arran that the salt o' some o' its families hasn't 
 lost its savor. The sins o' the Brodicks and Loch- 
 riggs have been among themselves, and none o' them 
 bad enough to make meeting at the Resurrection
 
 Annie's New Life 
 
 ' 
 painful beyond measure. At the New Year, I hope 
 
 you'll go home and make up wi' Mrs. Brodick. I 
 have a notion it may be easier done here than 
 yonder" 
 
 And Annie, smiling, shook her head, and taking 
 Sarah's arm answered " Come, let us have some 
 dinner. There is a fine black cock roasted before 
 the fire, and a pudding, and the best cup of tea in 
 Glasgow."
 
 7 
 
 CHAPTER TWELVE 
 
 MARION FINDS THE WAY HOME 
 
 IN orderly monotony the busy days passed into 
 weeks, and the weeks into months, and nothing until 
 near the New Year disturbed the even tenor of their 
 duties and pleasures. But between Christmastide 
 and the New Year, Marion was quietly married to 
 Lord Crieff, and went with him to the gloomy old 
 castle on the shore of the stormy North Sea. An- 
 nie dressed her, both for her wedding and her wed- 
 ding journey, and she was astonished at the silence 
 and restraint that marked her behavior. If the con- 
 trary had not been certain, Annie would have feared 
 she was either an unwilling or an unhappy bride. 
 For as she clasped her mantle, its black fur trim- 
 mings so accentuated the pallor, and even anxiety of 
 the childish face, Annie could not help asking: " Do 
 you fear to go, darling? It is so cold and dreary 
 now in the Highlands, why not stay South until 
 Spring? 5 * 
 
 " I cannot, Annie. No doubt the road will be 
 cold and difficult, and the castle lonely and full of the 
 shadow of death; but it is on the way, dear, on the 
 
 254
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 255 
 
 way home. If I turn aside from it now, I may never 
 find it again. I dare not think of that. I know that 
 I am right;" and a smile like sunshine transfigured 
 her face, and she lifted up her head and began to talk 
 cheerfully, unconscious of the tears that were brim- 
 ming her eyes, until one fell upon the glove Annie 
 was buttoning. She brushed it away with a laugh- 
 ing reminder that " tears were not for wedding 
 days;" then commending her grandfather to Annie's 
 friendship, she kissed her, and went rapidly to the 
 waiting coach. 
 
 " That is over," sighed Annie, as she watched the 
 vehicle disappear. " Once in school, once in Arran, 
 here in Glasgow, some fate has thrown us together. 
 Aunt Sarah would say the third time was final. Per- 
 haps it is. I think we have done for each other all 
 appointed us." 
 
 But she was haunted for many days by the mem- 
 ory of the white childish face, so fearful and yet so 
 brave, nor quite satisfied when she received a letter 
 from Castle Crieff telling her that " everything was 
 much better than she had expected." Still in Annie's 
 busy life the incident gradually lost its importance, 
 until there remained only a fugitive memory, binding 
 her to show some friendship towards the lonely old 
 man committed to her kindness.
 
 256 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 One evening, after an exhausting day's work, she 
 put on her hat and cloak and went to see the Pro- 
 fessor. She was physically weary, and a little down- 
 hearted, for she was beginning to find out that 
 money-making was not always happiness-making. 
 She had had some business disappointments, and 
 Sarah had not been well, and her visits had been de- 
 layed or omitted, and it takes but a trifle in such 
 moods to make the heart fearful and unhappy. She 
 had also a great longing to see her father, and as she 
 rapidly trod the gas-lit, crowded streets, she felt that 
 any one from her native place who could talk to her 
 of the people she knew, and loved, would be dearly 
 welcome. 
 
 Full of this feeling, she entered Professor Bal- 
 muto's parlor, and found Will Morrison sitting with 
 him. She was delighted. She took both Will's hands 
 in hers, and sitting down at his side opened a conver- 
 sation which was like wine to her heart. For an 
 hour she was her happiest self, and the Professor 
 looked and listened with some astonishment. It was 
 an Annie Brodick he had never before seen. 
 
 When Annie rose to go Will rose with her. " I 
 will see you safe home, Annie, if you will give me 
 that pleasure," he said, and Annie smiled, and laid 
 her hand in his. The streets were damp and dirty,
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 257 
 
 there was not a star in the lift, the lights were dim in 
 the fog, and the air was full of discordant sounds, 
 but Will had an interior light and joy that made 
 him oblivious of all exterior discomforts. He led 
 her the longest way home, and Annie made no dis- 
 senting remark, for Will surrounded her with the 
 aura of Home and home-love, and it was that cher- 
 ishing, nourishing influence she hungered for. 
 
 After a little hesitation, Will finally told her that 
 he had had a letter from Roy, and was intending to 
 take a midnight train to Liverpool in order to see 
 him. " I believe he is going abroad," he said, 
 " though he does not name any place in particular. 
 Aunt Sarah thought I had better see him. What 
 do you think, Annie?" 
 
 " I think Aunt Sarah is likely to be right." 
 
 "Then I shall go. Have you any message for 
 Roy?" 
 
 " No. He left me without either spoken or writ- 
 ten word. Do not remind him of Annie Brodick." 
 
 " A good wish could do no harm." 
 
 " If you think so, give him one. I wish well to 
 all." 
 
 "Nothing more? Not one hope, Annie?" 
 
 u Not one. It would be an untruth, and could do 
 him no good. I pray God to help him to bring forth 

 
 258 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 the best in him, for I do believe, Will, that beneath 
 the frivolous, deceitful, outside man, there is an un- 
 derlying personality of sweetness and nobility. At 
 times I got a glimpse of it, but I had not the power 
 over Roy to bring it to the front, and set it above 
 the lower man. Marion could explain what I mean. 
 I stumble, for I do not see clearly." 
 
 " I know. There is a good side to Roy. I have 
 seen it." 
 
 But Will noticed that she did not ask him to call 
 on his return from Liverpool. Indeed she seemed 
 to resolutely put her old lover out of the conver- 
 sation, which turned during the rest of their walk 
 upon Will's next voyage to Smyrna, and upon Aunt 
 Sarah's remarkable rejuvenation. At Annie's house 
 door they stood a few minutes, and she said, " Be 
 sure to call and see me when you come back from 
 the Mediterranean, Will. I want to hear about all 
 the wonderfuls that have happened to you." 
 
 " I will not forget, you may be sure of that, 
 Annie." 
 
 " Good-bye, Will ! You have done me good, more 
 good than you can imagine." And Will clasped her 
 hands in his and said, " God bless you, Annie," and 
 so turned away; for his love had that nobility which 
 scorns success, unless won with stainless honor. In
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 259 
 
 Liverpool he would speak plainly to Roy, and if Roy 
 had given up all hope of winning Annie for his wife, 
 he could then press his own suit with a clear con- 
 science. 
 
 If Annie thought further that night of the broth- 
 ers, it was of Will mainly. " Roy wants money," 
 she decided, " and doubtless poor Will is expected to 
 supply it." The subject, however, was old and worn 
 out, she put it fretfully aside, and really was more 
 anxious to see Sarah than either of her nephews. She 
 missed her cheerful hopefulness, and the mental 
 tonic of her clear-sighted truth-telling about all 
 events. 
 
 One snowy afternoon four days afterwards, Sarah 
 came into the showroom with a little blustering de- 
 fiance of the weather. " I have won here in spite o' 
 the storm," she said. " I have been waiting for a 
 fine day, till I was enough out o' temper to take the 
 very worst day o' the Winter, and I just told Nature 
 to mind her own affairs, and I would mind mine in 
 spite o' her. So here I am, Annie. And how's all 
 wi' you ? " 
 
 " All right, Aunt." Then they went into the par- 
 lor, and Annie ordered tea, and removed Sarah's wet 
 wraps, and both women chattered the while of the 
 things they had been keeping for mutual discussion.
 
 260 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 And whether Annie's apparent forgetfulness of both 
 Roy and Will was real or feigned, even the sharp- 
 eyed Sarah could not determine. But whenever her 
 observation failed, Sarah quickly came to catechism, 
 and so turning sharply to Annie, she asked: 
 " Did you see Will last week? " 
 " Yes, I met him at Professor Balmuto's." 
 " Did he tell you he was going to Liverpool to 
 see Roy?" 
 
 " He told me. Did he see his brother? " 
 " Ay, he saw both Roy and Roy's wife." 
 "Roy's wife?" 
 
 " That is what I say, and it is the very truth, 
 Annie Brodick. He has married a singing girl, a 
 dancing girl out o' some o' the deil's playhouses 
 and mair, he is parfectly delighted wi' himsel' for 
 the doing o' the deed." 
 
 " Are you believing the like o' that, Aunt ? " 
 " Will saw the lassie had speech wi' her and 
 heard her sing. He says she is bonnie beyond com- 
 paring, and sings like a lark on the wing. Will was 
 fairly bewitched by her, he hadn't words big enough 
 to praise her." 
 
 " Did Will Morrison go to a playhouse to hear 
 her sing? " 
 
 " Now then, what are you talking about ? Would
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 261 
 
 you get Will Morrison inside o* a playhouse? She 
 sang for Will in their ain room. They are going to 
 New York, where Roy is sure she will make a for- 
 tune." 
 
 " And in the meantime what?" 
 
 " Roy borrowed fifty pounds from Will. Mrs. 
 Roy Morrison had also a few pounds saved, and 
 they were as happy as two bairns going on a pic- 
 
 nic." 
 
 "And Will thought her pretty?" 
 
 " Will said she was a great beauty. She gave 
 Will pictures o' herself from the papers, and made 
 him read some o' the fine words about her singing 
 and dancing. Roy is fairly transported with his 
 good fortune, for he says all London town was at 
 her feet." 
 
 " Such ridiculous nonsense ! The town o' Lon- 
 don has something else to do, than fling itself at any 
 woman's feet. That is one of Roy's evendown lies. 
 Did Will tell you what the creature was like?" 
 
 " Ay, Will said she was like a rose. He said songs 
 came bubbling into her throat, and rippled in music 
 from her lips. He said she was all frills and rib- 
 bons, and lace and smiles dressed marvelous in 
 pink and white and jewels round her neck, and arms 
 and fingers."
 
 262 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " And toes, too, I suppose? No, I believe it was 
 'bells on her toes ' the lady going to Bambury Cross 
 on her cock-horse wore." 
 
 " That will do, Annie Brodick. I wouldn't be 
 spiteful and envious it is far from like you." 
 
 " Oh, I am not caring, Aunt. I just wonder at 
 Will being so easily taken captive. The circum- 
 stance is what we might expect from Roy but 
 
 Will " and she shrugged her shoulders to express 
 
 her contemptuous astonishment, not being able to 
 find words strong enough. 
 
 " Ay, Will kind of staggered me. She had him 
 under her witchery. He actually said he thought 
 she would manage Roy better than any other kind 
 o' woman. God knows good women like myself 
 and Annie Brodick have totally failed wi' the lad." 
 
 "What did you say to Will?" 
 
 " Not much, for Will would hear nothing against 
 either o' them. He said he saw no harm in the 
 bonnie wee wife, and a good deal o' everything 
 loving and lovable and the like o' that." 
 
 "Sarah!" 
 
 " More kinds of good women than one. He said 
 that also, and he had no doubt his pretty sister-in- 
 law would be the saving o' Roy and so forth. For 
 it seems Roy is in a burning fever o' love for her,
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 263 
 
 and Will thinks him a fairly changed man in her 
 hands." 
 
 " He never loved me, Aunt. I knew that as soon 
 as I saw Lord Crieff's love for Marion Balmuto. 
 He thought me a good speculation, and I disap- 
 pointed him. When he gave me up, it was without 
 a good-bye or a good wish." 
 
 " I'll tell you something, Annie, you perhaps never 
 thought of. Roy got to be superstitious about you 
 he told Will he hated to speak your name, for you 
 never brought him anything but trouble." 
 
 "He brought all his troubles on himself, and he 
 brought me only shame and sorrow." 
 
 " You are well off without him." 
 
 " Ay, but he made a loss in my life. I put better 
 men away for him, and I made myself ill, and my 
 dear father miserable, and wasted two years of the 
 Springtime of my youth worrying anent him and 
 his false love. I am wishing him no ill with his sing- 
 ing girl, indeed I am sorry for the poor lassie, for 
 she is over good for the like of him. He will grow 
 superstitious about her if she does not make money 
 enough to suit him." 
 
 " I thought it best to tell you all the truth. Will 
 said he could not do it." 
 
 " You have done right, Aunt. Truth stands all
 
 264 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 tests. Now, Sarah, this is the last of Roy Morrison 
 as far as Annie Brodick is concerned. Never name 
 him to me again. And I am not caring to hear much 
 more about Will. His pretty sister-in-law will suit 
 him better than I shall. I want to forget both of 
 them, so forget to speak of them in the future. 
 Promise me to do this." 
 
 " I'll promise conditionally. I could not say I 
 would never speak o' them unless I knew the fu- 
 ture." 
 
 " How is my father these days? " 
 
 " Growing younger every hour. His second wife 
 is much thought of by everybody. I mysel' am 
 getting on with her very well, and she took a great 
 fancy to Will." 
 
 "Who is Will?" 
 
 " Losh! Annie, don't make a fool o' yourseP. 
 You ken fine who Will is and I'll not stop talking 
 o' Will to please you. If you would do your duty, 
 and be a happy woman, you would come to Arran 
 .-and stay with me for a day or two. Then Mrs. 
 Brodick would hurry herself to call and see you, and 
 you have only to meet, and be friends. You cannot 
 keep an ill-feeling towards her, I know, for I tried 
 hard, and I could not manage it." 
 
 '* If Mrs. Brodick wants to see me, she can call
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 265 
 
 here. She has as much invitation as any one. She 
 is in Glasgow, I suppose, at the present time." 
 
 " I don't think so. She was in our Kirk last 
 Sunday." 
 
 " I heard Mrs. Laird telling Mrs. Cowrie this 
 morning that their minister Mr. Saunders, you 
 know had a son born to him last night. I'll war- 
 rant Mrs. Brodick was there to welcome the child." 
 
 "Why not? And now your father will have a 
 grandson. My certie! but he'll be the proud auld 
 man. Doubtless it will be called ' Robert ' after 
 him." 
 
 " Why? The child has a real grandfather of his 
 own blood and kin." 
 
 " He is a worldly, sinful creature, not fit to grand- 
 father such a child o' grace as the Minister's first 
 bairn will be. Your father will have the grand- 
 father's duty to do, and I'm sure your stepmother 
 will be daft over her part o' it. You will only be a 
 kind o' aunt, but you will be called upon for coral 
 beads, and embroidered robes, and such like neces- 
 sities forbye, the baptizing fineries and gifts." 
 
 " I shall not ware a bawbee on the child." 
 
 "Your family, Annie " 
 
 " My family increases too fast." 
 
 " You are a dour lassie. Give way a bit, Annie."
 
 266 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Not an inch, Sarah. I have no one in all the 
 world but you. No one else cares for me, and I 
 care for no one else. You are all I have, you are all 
 I want except father and he goes further and 
 further away. He will be beyond my knowledge 
 soon, but he is happy, thank God for that ! " 
 
 This conjunction of circumstances impressed 
 Annie profoundly. Except for one old woman, she 
 stood alone in the world. Roy had deserted her 
 and married another woman. Will's behavior she 
 persisted in misunderstanding. He had sided with 
 Roy and Roy's wife, and given them love and money 
 though they had treated her so badly. Yes, she felt 
 Will's disaffection far more bitterly than Roy's in- 
 fidelities. Roy had behaved to her with brutal in- 
 difference, and scornful neglect, and Will had never 
 for a moment made Roy feel that he was angry with 
 him for it. 
 
 Sarah spoke of the brotherly tie, and of their 
 probable life-long parting, and then most unad- 
 visably of Will's delight in finding that he might 
 now woo her, without wounding his brother's feel- 
 ings. This latter suggestion enraged Annie. She 
 wanted to know what Roy Morrison's feelings had 
 to do with her? She said she would utterly scorn 
 a lover who asked Roy Morrison if he had done
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 267 
 
 with her for that, in plain Scotch, was what Will 
 meant. So he had been waiting, till Roy gave him 
 permission to speak to her, had he ? Let him know 
 then, now and forever, she would never give herself 
 permission to listen. Waiting till Roy signified that 
 he had done with her! Over and over she made 
 this provoking assertion, until it had thoroughly 
 poisoned her heart and mind with its venomous 
 ideas. 
 
 And Sarah found all her philosophy and all her 
 homely sarcasms blunted weapons against Annie's 
 sense of insult and desertion. She would listen to 
 no excuses, but surrounded herself with an atmos- 
 phere of proud isolation, and gave all her energies 
 to money-making. And if financial success can atone 
 for love's failure, Annie ought to have been satis- 
 fied; for it was not only in her legitimate business 
 she prospered, she developed a talent for speculation, 
 which fairly frightened the more prudent Sarah. In 
 this respect, Annie's most pronounced natural in- 
 stinct adopted its opposite, and with a kind of reck- 
 less confidence, forced it to astounding results. And 
 Sarah trembled at the risks Annie took, and then 
 trembled anew at their wonderful success. 
 
 " It isn't canny, Annie," she said almost in a whis- 
 per. " I'm feared, I'm feared, my lass, that we are
 
 268 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 out of the way o' righteousness. Such profits might 
 be called usury, and there is something said in the 
 Word anent usury. I don't just remember it, for I 
 was paying no attention to a sin I thought clear 
 beyond my power to commit." And Annie only 
 smiled; she knew large profits could make their own 
 justification, if any was needed. 
 
 So time went on, and at the end of the third yezr 
 Annie owned the house she had almost been afraid 
 to rent, and had, besides, far more " lying siller" in 
 Glasgow banks than any one suspected. She declared 
 she was satisfied with her life. " It gave her," she 
 said, " far more pleasure than love had done. Love 
 had brought her nothing but fear and worry, and 
 slight and shame, and quarreling and disappointment. 
 But her Bank Book! It was all in golden figures, 
 and it never lied to her, never deceived her, never 
 broke its promises. A friend like that was better 
 than a lover. Yes, indeed! " 
 
 Testing things by such material results, Annie 
 felt that she had turned love's failure into a golden 
 success. But whether this satisfaction would be able 
 to bear the proof and trial of loftier standards of 
 conduct, was not yet within her experience scarcely 
 within her consideration. The criterion came to 
 her one hot evening in early August. She was sitting
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 269 
 
 alone at the open window, vaguely watching the 
 weary crowd of workers trailing homeward. The 
 doorbell startled her. It was an imperative ring 
 a ring that had the vitality of a human call in it, and 
 she went to meet the girl hurrying upstairs with a 
 telegram : 
 
 " Annie, come to me. I am nearly home. Marion." 
 
 She was shocked. She had forgotten Marion. 
 She thought her duty in that direction was finished, 
 and the call was not welcome. But being August, 
 she had no valid excuse for not going to Crieff ; her 
 business was closed until September, and she had 
 just been planning for a visit to the Bridge of Allan. 
 The ancient castle and the dying woman did not al- 
 lure her. However, the message had come with 
 an authority beyond any every-day design and she 
 felt that she must obey it, willingly or not. Her 
 conscience in this respect was still sensitive as a 
 nerve, and she had no rest until she began to make 
 preparations for the journey; so that on the evening 
 of the second day, the earl met her at the nearest 
 landing place, and she saw at once upon his face 
 the shadow of that sorrow that was only waiting. 
 
 " Marion?" she asked as they met with clasping 
 hands. 
 
 " She is drifting away to a still, strange land."
 
 270 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " It is the land she has always been seeking." 
 " Yes," he answered, " the vision of the divine 
 home from which her soul wandered, haunted her 
 continually. I am glad you have come, for Marion 
 cannot remain long in the borderland. Christ him- 
 self will speak the ' Enter thou ' unto her." 
 " Here, she could not be satisfied." 
 " She was on her way to God, and could rest noth- 
 ing short of that." 
 
 As they approached the Castle, Annie saw with 
 a pang of pain the last earthly home of the sweet 
 spirit hungering for " one not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens." It stood among black pre- 
 cipitous crags, on the summit of a high hill over- 
 hanging the North Sea, and had an awful past look, 
 though in some ways it had been modernized. Thus 
 the ancient courtyard, which had been the martial 
 gathering place of the clan, was now a lovely gar- 
 den; the long stone stairs leading to the sleeping 
 rooms were covered down the center with a strip 
 of handsome crimson carpet, and the small win- 
 dows had been replaced by wide, ample ones in all 
 the dwelling rooms. 
 
 It was on a bed drawn to an open casement that 
 Annie found Marion. She was like a phantom, the 
 loveliest ghost of a human creature that the most
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 271; 
 
 heavenly imagination could dream of. Her small 
 listening face was innocent and fearless as that of a 
 child; her eloquent eyes open to some glorious 
 vision wlere unconscious of earthly presence; her 
 hands lay clasped on the white cover as if in adora- 
 tion. The transfiguration of divine love conquering 
 death was over her she was speaking in low, sweet 
 tones of heaven, and heavenly experiences; and 
 
 " had the look of one 
 To whom glad news is sent 
 From the far country of her home, 
 After long banishment." 
 
 In this borderland of being, where life scarcely 
 drew breath, she remained until the night fell, and 
 the full moon rose gloriously over land and sea, and 
 flooded the silent room. Then she slowly became 
 conscious, and Crieff, bending tenderly over her, 
 whispered, "My darling, Annie is here;" and she 
 answered in a glad voice, "Come to me, Annie;" 
 and Annie knelt down at her side, and she was softly 
 weeping, but she could not speak. For oh, that two 
 hours' silent watching and waiting in the twilight and 
 moonlight had been a wondrous voice to Annie 
 Brodick. Before that pure soul, with its heavenly 
 eyes, and heavenly hopes, she was ashamed and sor- 
 rowful. She did not feel worthy to touch the sen-
 
 272 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 sitive lips, hallowed by life-long prayer, or to clasp 
 the hands that had already let fall every earthly 
 thing. Old memories sprang up to strangle her, but 
 at length she found power to say, " Marion ! Marion ! 
 Why did you not send for me before? My dear, 
 my dear, I had forgotten, I had forgotten." 
 
 " I hear that you have been what people call for- 
 tunate, Annie, but oh, what will it profit if you 
 gain all the world, and lose your soul ? What will it 
 profit, Annie?" 
 
 " Nothing ! Nothing, Marion ! " 
 
 " Christ's dear love is the only good there is 
 and if you but once drink deep of that divinest an- 
 guish, you never could desire the empty world again. 
 At this hour, Annie " 
 
 "Yes, dear?" 
 
 " Christ is everything. He feeds me with the 
 bread of life, and covers me with the banner of His 
 love. He gives me a joy past utterance, a rest un- 
 speakable. Remember, Annie! You must come 
 where I am going. I shall watch for you do not 
 disappoint me." 
 
 " Oh, Marion, if death " 
 
 "Death I" she said with a celestial smile ' ; that 
 deceitful word I This is the great saying that men 
 forget death Is life"
 
 Marion Finds the Way Home 273 
 
 She moved her hand a little, and Crieff clasped it, 
 and the shadows of night grew darker, and there 
 was not a sound but the murmur of the ocean on the 
 pebbly beach below them. But some tender Presence 
 made a sweetness in the room, and the air was 
 thrilled with shadowy sounds, and the softest stir 
 as of unseen wings. About midnight she said in a 
 voice sweet and hollow like muffled music a long, 
 long way off " Now, my dear Lord Christ, take me 
 Home; into Thy Hands into Thy Hands I com- 
 mit " 
 
 But whether she went away with that prayer or 
 not, none knew. A little later Crieff rose from his 
 knees and whispering " She has gone," left the room, 
 and Annie was alone with the dead. 
 
 Then she called in Marion's maid, and dressed 
 the dead for her burial, as she had dressed her for 
 her bridal, and her heart overflowed, and she could 
 not forgive herself for the neglect she had shown 
 the sweet soul, that she might perhaps have helped 
 and comforted in her last painful days. Too late! 
 Forever too late! 
 
 She only remained long enough to see the dear 
 little body laid, with a triumphant hymn, in the 
 windy sepulcher of the lords of Crieff. She could 
 do nothing more, except weep for the opportunities
 
 274 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 love would have given her, but which were now lost 
 to her forever. The earl seemed inconsolable, and 
 she had no comfort to offer; for every heart knoweth 
 its own bitterness, and a stranger intermeddleth not 
 with it. Yet, just as she was leaving him, he put 
 into Annie's hand a few lines, which doubtless struck 
 the first notes of comfort for him 
 
 " Yet there are lives that 'mid the trampling throng, 
 With their prime beauty bloom at evensong. 
 Hearts, for whom God has judged it best to know 
 Only by heresy sin, and want, and woe; 
 Bright to come hither, and to travel hence 
 Bright as they came, and wise in innocence."
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 THE EARL AND ANNIE BRODICK 
 
 THE emotions and experiences of this sad week did 
 not fade from Annie's memory or feelings; they bit 
 deeper and deeper into her consciousness. She would 
 have chosen to forget them, but she could not, for 
 they were foreign to her life, and she was only half 
 persuaded of their general usefulness. " Marion Was 
 so impractical," she thought; "the world could not 
 go on if people lived up to her standard." 
 
 She hoped when she reached Glasgow to be able 
 to throw off the unnatural atmosphere in which she 
 had been suffused during the startling episode of 
 Marion's translation. But the city great as it was 
 noisy with speech and traffic swarming with ex- 
 istences steeped in every material product did not 
 banish the unearthly senses that had been stimulated 
 during her visit to Castle Crieff. Blatantly present 
 as the streets were, she could neither see nor feel 
 them, for the great mountains shouldering each 
 other up to heaven, the peaceful corries, hazy with 
 bluebells, nestling in their strength, the mighty 
 ocean stretching away to the occult shores of the 
 
 275
 
 276 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 poles, were the backgrounds of her thoughts, even 
 in the hot, dusty cab which carried her to her own 
 house. Surely she would feel at home with herself 
 there. 
 
 No ! She entered it like a prisoner going back to 
 his cell; its gloom, its air of emptiness and neglect, 
 the black-eyed, black-browed woman coming from 
 the depths of the cellar kitchen to say a not very 
 pleasant " Home already,! " only accentuated the 
 large air of freedom, and of the presence of God, she 
 had left among the mountains, and on the surging, 
 singing waters of loch and sea. There also she had 
 seen again the fishing boats, and the men who face 
 life and death in them men silent and grave, in big 
 sea boots and guernseys, with the salt in their hair, 
 and the breath of the ocean all round them, and the 
 sounds of the waves in their voices. The men she 
 saw in Glasgow were different, silk-hatted, fine- 
 tweeded, well-laundered men, who were deaf to all 
 the voices calling her from high places, and far- 
 reaching waters. 
 
 The next day she wandered aimlessly about her 
 home, trying to find herself, to recall herself to the 
 life she must live. " For I am not all here," she 
 whispered. Nor was she. Her personality, in its 
 finest essences, had escaped her control; she had left
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 277 
 
 it on the hills, and on the ocean, and in the old room 
 in Crieff Castle, where she had dwelt with angels. 
 She felt that she must bring herself from every 
 quarter to this center of her daily life, and she hailed 
 with delight the sight of Sarah Lochrigg mounting 
 the steps to her door. 
 
 " I am requiring your help, Sarah, very much," 
 she said, as she untied her bonnet. " I have not been 
 able to do anything since I came home." 
 
 " I don't wonder, Annie. Death is a confounding 
 circumstance; it makes you think, whether you want 
 to or not." 
 
 u You could not be with Marion and care about 
 this world, and you know, Sarah, those who have 
 to fight this world must be worldlike." 
 
 " I know nothing of the kind, Annie. It seems 
 to me, the children of heaven get a fair share of all 
 the world's good that is going. Look at your father. 
 His new wife has just had twenty thousand pounds 
 left her by an uncle she had never seen, yet the man 
 has been grubbing and saving for her, and your 
 father, for nearly forty years. Tell me about 
 Marion." 
 
 Annie did so. She began reluctantly, and then 
 suddenly grew full of fervor, and described in lan- 
 guage she did not guess was at her command, the
 
 278 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 last few hours of Marion's life " life that was not 
 here, and yet not quite there," she said, " but clearly 
 life in the presence of God's waiting messengers. 
 Oh, Sarah! Sarah! there was a sweet, awful reality 
 about it all. I cannot forget. I wish I could." 
 
 " Why do you wish that? You are most unworthy 
 to have seen and heard, if you wish you had not. 
 I would be feared of a state like that. Annie, it is 
 easy to die if you are in love with all your kindred. 
 I am worrying a deal anent you, and your father. 
 He isna looking well." 
 
 " I saw him at his stepson's Kirk not a month, 
 since, and he never looked better." 
 
 " Weel, I was just dropping a remark. I am 
 growing old mysel', and I feel age in all my bones, 
 and the world does not grip me as it did. I'm think- 
 ing o' giving up worldly care of all kinds. You have 
 made a grand stand, and can do finely without my 
 help and guidance. It is the end o' the fourth year 
 with us, and if you are in my mind, we will settle 
 our affairs, and each take our own way. You'll do 
 well enough wanting me." 
 
 "Aunt Sarah, you have been my counsellor and 
 my staff, and I shall miss you sorely. I don't know 
 how the loss of your name may affect the .business. 
 If I explain it, no one will take my explanation ; and
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 279 
 
 if I do not explain, they will invent reasons the 
 worst they can think of for your withdrawal." 
 
 "Why inform them at all? I will let my name 
 remain in the firm guaranteed and considered, of 
 course guaranteed, from any loss or obligation; 
 considered, as to its value in the way o' money. For 
 my name is a lucky name, and it will be worth your 
 paying a trifle for its use." 
 
 " What would you call a trifle, Sarah?" 
 
 " Well, a bit douceur of two pounds a month, or 
 we might make it twenty-four guineas a year that 
 would give me twenty-five pounds a year, and four 
 shillings over for clipping." 
 
 " For clipping? " 
 
 " Ay, money has wings and will fly away, if you 
 don't clip them, and charity is the best o' clipping. 
 I shall give the four shillings to the Kirk's poor." 
 
 " Very well. We will say twenty-four guineas a 
 year, Aunt. Will you take boarders again?" 
 
 " I would like to see, or hear tell, o' Mrs. Sarah 
 Lochrigg doing the like o' that now. I shall live 
 on my income it is plentiful and dress mysel' in 
 the top o' your fashions. I shall buy a Victoria, and 
 a pair o' handsome ponies, and keep a man to drive 
 me, and look after them. Jean Brodick is setting 
 up a handsome Victoria and one good carriage horse.
 
 280 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 I fancy a pair o' ponies; they look more for the 
 money." 
 
 " So Mrs. Brodick is to. have a carriage. I never 
 thought father would allow " 
 
 " Tut! It isn't pinching him any; Jean has her 
 ain means. She'll have her Victoria, but she isn't 
 so popular as she was not her fault though." 
 
 "Whose then?" 
 
 " The Misses Envy and Jealousy ill-tempered, 
 misdirected auld maids, and auld^wives, as you'll find 
 outside o' Satan's home parish." 
 
 ".They will doubtless make you also unpopular." 
 
 " I dare them. Let them try it I I shall wear my 
 English broadcloths, with my long gold chain, and 
 gold bracelets, and sable furs in cold weather; and 
 the best o' silks and poplins, and French muslins in 
 warm weather; and if they as much as cheep at me, 
 I'll make them shamed to show their faces again 
 either at Kirk or Market. I shall ride in my Victoria 
 wherever I go. I am o'er weak in my legs to walk 
 
 now." 
 
 The smile with which the last assertion was made 
 was not a weak one, and Annie laughed heartily, 
 "Will you have an hour's rest now, Aunt?" she 
 asked. 
 
 "An hour's rest! What are you talking about?
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 281 
 
 I am fairly worn out with hunger. I had a very 
 early breakfast, and nothing since it; and I am re- 
 quiring plenty o' nourishing food at my time o' life. 
 Will is to be in Glasgow to-day, that is what brought 
 me here. He says he has news for me." 
 
 "Why did he not write his news?" 
 
 " Because he is wanting to see me, mysel' that's 
 not an extraordinar fact, I think." 
 
 " I hope he is not coming here." 
 
 " You cross, unthankful hizzy. The man is giv- 
 ing you his life and his love, and you make it of 
 no more consequence than the dust you shake, out 
 o' your clothes. The last time he called on 
 you " 
 
 " He brought me a present of Maltese lace, worth 
 sixty pounds." 
 
 "Nonsense! Will never wared so much good 
 money on lace work never! " 
 
 "I say it was worth sixty pounds here; and I 
 could not refuse it, and I hated being indebted to 
 Will, and so the lace hurt me." 
 
 "Hurt your pride, you mean. Sell it; the sixty 
 pounds won't hurt your purse." 
 
 " It would burn me like fire. I would not sell it 
 if I needed bread. It came of love, and I am not 
 the woman to sell love for money."
 
 282 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " Poor Will! He was just hoping the lace might 
 give you a hint o' what he would lose ten years o' 
 his life to say himsel'." 
 
 " Pshaw! I have no patience with a lover so faint- 
 hearted. It is absurd. Will has known me all his 
 life, and he is afraid of me. One would think I 
 was some new kind of woman." 
 
 " To Will you are a new kind. I know you for 
 the same old ticket of a woman that has been, and 
 is, and will be forever. Do give me some lunch, 
 Annie. I have a tryste wi' the lad at two o'clock, 
 and I wouldn't disappoint him for you and all you 
 are worth." 
 
 Rarely had Annie seen her partner so ready to 
 chatter, so good-humored and light-hearted; but 
 when she returned from her visit to Will she was 
 silent and gloomy, and full of thought. Annie won- 
 dered what was the matter, but she did not ask. She 
 knew that the first cup of tea would make the silent 
 woman communicative, and she stirred the fire, for 
 it had become rainy and chill, and Sarah turned her 
 chair in front of it. " I want nothing to eat, Annie," 
 she said; " it is the blaze on my cold feet I am need- 
 ing. I'm not feeling well." 
 
 " You were exceedingly well when you went to 
 Will's ship."
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 283 
 
 u Ay, but I got a chill there more ways than one. 
 I got a chill there, Annie." 
 
 " Ships are cold places." 
 
 " It wasn't the ship." 
 
 " Surely not Will? " 
 
 "No, no; Will's all right. Will is always all 
 right it is poor Roy again." 
 
 Annie did not speak. 
 
 " I am saying, Roy is in trouble." 
 
 " Wanting money, I suppose. I thought the won- 
 derful Lucia was making twenty, fifty, a hundred 
 pounds a week, in New York." 
 
 " She is doing all that yet but Roy is having no 
 good o' it they are divorced." 
 
 "Aunt Sarah!" 
 
 " And she has married herself again, this time to 
 some Frenchman who sings and dances wi' her. 
 Will showed me a New York paper with the whole 
 story in it and her picture, and Roy's, and the 
 Frenchman's, and Mrs. Brian O'Mara's picture 
 all of them decorating the miserable details." 
 
 "And pray, who is Mrs. Brian O'Mara?" 
 
 " She is a widow woman infatuated wi' Roy, and 
 she is enormously rich. Her husband made the 
 money out o' soap, or oil, or washing powder, or 
 something of the kind. They were married as soon
 
 284 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 as Roy was free, and went immediately to Paris, 
 where Mrs. O'Mara has a fine house." 
 
 " Mrs. Morrison, you mean." 
 
 " No, I mean what I say. She will never be mis- 
 tress to Roy's master." 
 
 "Poor Roy!" 
 
 "What for are you pitying the man?" 
 
 " The widow woman " 
 
 u 'Tut! She'll be a good provider." 
 
 " You said Roy was in trouble." 
 
 " If he isn't now, he will be a widow woman, 
 forty years old, with a full purse, and carrying it in 
 her own hand what can Roy expect? He will be 
 her bought slave, Annie, and she will make him feel 
 it if her picture does not tell lies about her." 
 
 " Is she handsome?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it. I am better looking mysel'. 
 She is one o' them thin-lipped women that are hewn 
 out o' living rock; a masterful-looking body, whose 
 ' you-shallness ' could not be hid by the smirking 
 smile o' her lips. I'll warrant anything that she 
 is common and ill-mannered; Roy will find her out 
 when too late to change the M for N in the mar- 
 riage service." 
 
 " I am not sorry for Roy." 
 
 "He is a fool. He has sold himself for naught.
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 285 
 
 He treated you badly, Annie, but whether you ever 
 know it or not, you are sure to be more than re- 
 venged, as all who suffer wrong, ultimately are. But 
 my auld heart aches, lassie, it does that." 
 
 " I wonder what love amounts to? Is there such 
 a thing? Will went on about the love between Roy 
 and his wife as if it would last though eternity. He 
 represented them to you as ridiculously in love with 
 each other." 
 
 " Ridiculously, is your word, Miss Annie. Will 
 never thinks love * ridiculous ' but it seems the ques- 
 tion of love at the long last is the question o' money." 
 
 " Not always, Mrs. Lochrigg." 
 
 "Gey often, though." 
 
 " Everything came to a question of money with 
 Roy." 
 
 " Ay, he ought to have been born with handsful, 
 capsful, pocketslful of gold and silver. He was 
 born poor, and fond o' leisure. That is a conjunc- 
 tion that will work havoc wi' any life." 
 
 " Did Will say anything about me? " 
 
 " Ay, he asked how you were. I told him well, 
 and doing well." 
 
 "Was that all?" 
 
 "What more are you expecting? " 
 
 " Nothing more."
 
 286 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 "Well then?" 
 
 " I feel sure he said more." 
 
 " He did ask if I thought he might call on you. 
 He had a box o' lovely corals. I wanted them 
 badly." 
 
 "Did you tell him to call?" 
 
 " Only this morning you said you hoped he would 
 not come to your house." 
 
 " You surely did not repeat those words." 
 
 " I said you were busy, getting ready to open 
 again and so on was that right?" 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " I do wish he had given me the corals. They 
 would have been strikingly bonnie in my black hair." 
 
 " Very much so." 
 
 " I think I'll ask him for them." 
 
 " I certainly would." 
 
 " What did he say when you told him I was busy?" 
 
 " Something about being thankful for five 
 minutes." 
 
 " What did you say to that? " 
 
 " I said I would be here to-night, and he could 
 call on me, for as many five minutes as he wanted 
 to." 
 
 " Will he call on you to-night? " 
 
 " He may and he may not."
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 287 
 
 " Sarah, you are a provoking creature." 
 
 " So are you. Here is a poor man, breaking his 
 life in two for a few kind words from you, and you 
 are fairly too mean and too centered in Annie Brod- 
 ick to give even a Godspeed you, to as fine a sailor 
 as leaves any port in this world. I am loving Will, 
 and it hurts me to see you scorn love as true as ever 
 honest man felt." 
 
 " I do not scorn Will. I do not like him to make 
 me such rich presents." 
 
 " God in heaven ! What do you like ? Roy gave 
 you no presents, not even an engagement ring, and 
 you made some mocking remarks to me, mysel', on 
 that subject. Will, by his fine faculty o' trading, is 
 able to give you laces and. jewelry, and your pride is 
 in an insurrection at the naming o' the same, and 
 * you don't like handsome presents.' You will go on 
 snubbing all that love you, Annie, till you find your- 
 self in an empty, loveless world. Gold won't com- 
 fort you then. You'll want love, though it be only 
 the love of one true heart." 
 
 " I have yours." 
 
 " I am an auld woman." 
 
 ' You are in the plenitude of your youth. That 
 is all." 
 
 " I am full o' the disabilities o' fifty odd years. I
 
 288 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 need what love I have for my am necessities. For- 
 bye, I have small respect for women that cannot 
 marry themselves. There's something wrong with 
 them." 
 
 "Aunt, you told me yourself that money-making 
 was better than love, and a husband. Often you 
 said that." 
 
 " Ay, I remember saying such words. I knew they 
 were untrue when I said them, and even if they be 
 true, I have changed my mind since then. When I 
 get a better point of view on any subject, I change 
 my position that's Sarah Lochrigg. Her ideas 
 move on, when she tells them to do so! for circum- 
 stances alter cases, Annie, and I think it is now 
 time for you to put love-making before money- 
 making." 
 
 Will did not call that night, and Sarah went home 
 in the morning in a mood which deserved to be called 
 " cross." It left Annie unhappy and almost hope- 
 less. What indeed would it profit if she made 
 money and lost all the love that should be hers? 
 Mechanically she went about her business, but her 
 heart was wandering up and down the world, finding 
 no other heart on which it could rest. In the after- 
 noon Will called. He said he was " going out with 
 the next tide, and had just run in to bid her good-
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 289 
 
 bye." She had a desire to cry, but restrained it, and 
 spoke of Roy's trouble and disappearance, giving 
 Will the same advice as she had given Sarah to let 
 Roy's destiny have a chance with him for once, and 
 see if experience would not be a better teacher than 
 help. Will thought the suggestion reasonable, and 
 then laid down on the table a box containing the 
 corals, remarking as he did so that " They were 
 pretty, but of small value." And Annie looked at 
 him with eyes full of some wistful hope, and an- 
 swered : 
 
 " It is the thoughtfulness and the liking, Will, 
 that make all gifts precious," and she gave him 
 both her hands, and he held them in his own and 
 looked at her with Love's compelling glance. For 
 a moment a kiss trembled in the space between them, 
 but it did not materialize; then he was gone, and 
 she fancied the door shut slowly and sorrowfully 
 between them. 
 
 The interview had not lasted fifteen minutes, but 
 it took possession of Annie. She felt the day was 
 over, and she hoped the night would clear away its 
 disturbances and worries. It did not. She could not 
 help feeling that both Sarah and Will were doing 
 her injustice and injustice is the sharpest of heart 
 wounds; and looking at the beautiful corals, she put
 
 290 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 them away with a little sobbing cry that was pitiful 
 in its very restraint. 
 
 Sarah's withdrawal roused in her something like 
 anger. The loss of her money would compel her 
 business to narrower limits, but on the whole she ap- 
 proved that move; and in a few days she was able 
 to assure herself that her life would be both easier 
 and pleasanter when she managed it according to 
 her own ideas and desires. Sarah had often been 
 authoritative and embarrassing, and she had over- 
 heard one of her best patrons say she " was glad 
 that Mrs. Lochrigg had disappeared; she was a very 
 forward person." It was quite true. Sarah was 
 " forward n ; and her ways were not always the ways 
 of pleasantness to those who did not understand the 
 clarity and sincerity of her nature; and who very 
 likely did not care anything about her nature, only 
 desiring to be allowed to make their own selections 
 without interference. 
 
 On the whole, Annie rose bravely to the new con- 
 ditions. She told herself if people chose to throw 
 her off without any good reason she could live alone, 
 and be content with such consolations as her life and 
 her work brought her. And the sense of injustice 
 under which she burned, at least gave her strength
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 291 
 
 and courage, and enabled her to assume an air of 
 satisfaction and cheerfulness, until the assumption 
 became a reality. Also, as she realized the sense of 
 her independence, she found a different kind of hap- 
 piness the strong delight of one who has the mas- 
 tery of herself and her destiny. And this is a feel- 
 ing highly conducive to health and beauty, so that 
 Annie had never been lovelier than at this period of 
 her life. 
 
 One evening towards the end of the year, just as 
 she was sitting down to her solitary cup of tea, the 
 Earl of Crieff called. She was glad of some one to 
 talk to, and she asked him to drink a cup with her. 
 He was equally glad of the invitation, for he was 
 longing to speak of Marion, and who could under- 
 stand such a conversation as well as Annie? 
 
 " Going through my dear wife's desk," he said, 
 " I found this parcel addressed to you, Miss Brodick, 
 and a note with it, asked me to put it into your hands 
 myself. I now fulfill this obligation." The address 
 was in Marion's writing, and Annie kissed it, and 
 then unlocking a desk, placed the parcel safely within 
 its keeping. Then they looked at each other, and 
 were both astonished. Annie had come to her per- 
 fect loveliness, the earl was wasted and appeared
 
 292 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 to be both ill and unhappy. For a few moments he 
 was silent, then he poured out his misery with an 
 eager passion. 
 
 " I am the most wretched of all men," he said in 
 low, hopeless tones. " Oh, Miss Brodick ! Oh, 
 Annie! eh?" 
 
 " Yes, call me Annie, Marion did." 
 
 " Marion ! Marion ! Oh, Annie, if I could call 
 her back just for five minutes! If I could call her 
 back to tell her what a brute I was, and that my 
 heart is breaking for her forgiveness." 
 
 " You were never unkind to Marion? Oh, no! " 
 
 " I was, Annie. I was. I did not think it as un- 
 kindness then. I thought Marion as hardly doing 
 her duty to me, and my interests, so I grumbled at 
 the monthly bills, and I told her I expected her to 
 watch the housekeeper. I said she was helping my 
 servants to squander all my money, and so ruin my 
 prospects, and oh, Annie! I can see yet, and I shall 
 always see, her small pathetic face as she answered, 
 ' I did my best, Jamie ; I will try and do better this 
 month, dear.' She seemed to have no care for the 
 battle with debt I was fighting." 
 
 "Poor little woman, how could she? Did you 
 ever explain the condition of your estate to her? " 
 
 " Constantly, every day, I believe. She looked
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 293 
 
 sad and puzzled, and said she was sorry she did 
 not understand about rents and entails, and clear- 
 ances and such things! Oh, I cannot forget! I 
 cannot forget! her weary eyes, her hopeless efforts 
 to please me. Annie, I don't think I was hard to 
 please, and I loved her, I loved her so much that 
 now I suffer cruelly for every little neglect, and for 
 every cross word or look I gave her." 
 
 " Surely you were not neglectful or cross?" 
 
 " Indeed that was not my intention, but I did not 
 think then that she was dying. * I am so tired, Jamie 
 dear,' she would say in excuse, when I complained 
 of some neglect, ' so tired and weak, Jamie,' and now, 
 Annie, her sad, pitiful eyes haunt me day and night, 
 and in every room I hear her thin, childlike voice 
 ' I am so tired, Jamie ' ! My God, it is awful ! This 
 is remorse, Annie, and it is hell ! " 
 
 " Remorse is hell, but repentance puts remorse 
 far off." 
 
 " All my life is broken up, and my people shake 
 their heads and say, ' Poor lady! poor lady! ' as if 
 in some way I was to blame for her death." 
 
 " Her last look was yours. The last words she 
 said to any mortal were said to you." 
 
 " And they were sweet with love * Good-bye, 
 dear, good-bye ! ' Oh, Annie, Annie, she has left
 
 294 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 me forever, and I shall be lonely and miserable as 
 long as I live." And he rose and walked about the 
 room to his lamentings "She is dead! My heart 
 is in her grave! Oh for one word with her! only 
 one word! " And he really suffered, for though no 
 longer a passionate lover, he was a man of strong 
 habits, and every household habit had been broken 
 by Marion's death. " I did not think she was 
 really very ill until after the birth of her child," he 
 cried in a fresh paroxysm of self-accusation. 
 
 " I never heard of the child," said Annie. 
 
 " It was only a girl," he answered, with that un- 
 conscious indifference natural to the male represent- 
 ative of old families and large estates. " I think 
 she was glad when it died. She only lived six weeks 
 after it." 
 
 " The child is better dead than left to strangers 
 
 or servants." 
 
 " No. I should have seen the little Lady Marion 
 had all things necessary for her welfare and pleasure. 
 Oh, Annie, I am exceedingly sorrowful." 
 
 It was, however, fortunate that the earl was his 
 own best comforter. All he wanted was some per- 
 son to listen to his accusations against himself, and 
 considerately take the extreme edge* off them. Annie 
 understood this need, and gave as much of such com-
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 295 
 
 fort as she conscientiously could. But she was glad 
 when he went away, and her assent to his request that 
 he might call on her when he came to Glasgow, was 
 a decidedly cool one. For he had told her he was 
 at the Crieff Mansion in Edinburgh for the Winter, 
 and came once a week to Glasgow on business. 
 
 " I am just as well off without friends," sighed 
 Annie, as soon as she was alone; " when they come 
 my way, they are wanting something from me. Will 
 wants love, Crieff wants sympathy, and Aunt Sarah 
 used me to help her make money. Marion was kind- 
 always, but then, I was kind to her." With these 
 words, she turned to the desk and took from it the 
 parcel Marion had sent her. She found in it a letter 
 full of love and heavenly wishes, and the bracelets 
 set with pearls, the sapphire locket, the jeweled 
 Geneva watch, and the diamond and ruby rings she 
 had worn during her Summer in Arran " these 
 were her own, my Lord Crieff did not buy them, nor 
 did they ever belong to the Crieff jewelry. She 
 knew he would marry again, and she wanted me, 
 rather than some strange woman, to have them. 
 Safely will I keep them, Marion my dear," and the 
 last words she uttered on this subject were not flatter- 
 ing ones " I hope he will never come here again 
 with his wounded heart; if he does, I'll agree with
 
 296 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 h 
 
 him; it stands to reason he is not abusing himself 
 .without some cause." 
 
 But Crieff came the next week, and many weeks 
 afterwards, and somehow Annie got used to his 
 visits, and never carried out her intention of " agree- 
 ing " with him. The man's remorse was genuine, 
 it appealed to her on this ground. And during the 
 Winter, which was dree and severe, he was her only 
 visitor, for Sarah had a tendency to* rheumatism 
 that kept her throng watching it, and Will was on a 
 long trading voyage to Australia and homeward 
 ports. As for her father, she never saw him except 
 there was some extraordinary religious meeting at 
 Mr. Saunders' Kirk. Then she went there late, and 
 sitting in the back seats, watched the Deacon during 
 the service; but was among the first to leave the 
 building when it was over. Certainly Deacon Brod- 
 ick never had the slightest suspicion of her presence, 
 but in some measure these speechless interviews sat- 
 isfied the hunger of her heart. 
 
 Earl Crieff, however, gave her plenty of reasons 
 for thinking a good deal about him. In the first 
 place, she watched with scornful curiosity the quick 
 natural death of what he called " his undying re- 
 morse." At first he had been able to make the small, 
 white pleading face, the pathetic eyes, and the weak
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 297 
 
 childish form, so startlingly present, that Annie had 
 trembled with him; but as the weeks went on, his 
 pictures of the dead Marion became like half-ef- 
 faced pastels, vague and shadowy, but always sweet 
 and smiling. In the second place, Annie noticed a 
 change equally great in the bereaved man's manner 
 toward herself. He began to dress with great care 
 when he called, he brought her expensive flowers, he 
 held her hands longer, and more affectionately than 
 was necessary, and in a score of ways showed that 
 he was simply waiting till the conservative time of 
 his mourning was over in order to make straight- 
 forward love to her. In fact, Crieff wished her to 
 understand this much and Annie required no words 
 to explain his wishes. She knew that she would 
 have an early opportunity to become Countess Crieff 
 if she wished to do so did she wish it? " 
 
 Sometimes she did. She thought of the triumph 
 it would give her over all who pitied, or snubbed, ad- 
 vised, or made excuses for her. A coronet, and the 
 social consideration and pleasures it would bring, 
 was not a matter of indifference to her. But Will 
 Morrison interfered. She had found out that she 
 loved Will, and when she balanced the two men the 
 sailor stood far closer to her than the earl. This 
 heart controversy was a good thing for Annie Brod-
 
 298 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 ick; it made money and rank frequently stand aside 
 for love, and so prevented her from becoming sub- 
 dued to the material objects she worked for. 
 
 One day when the Spring had fairly opened, and 
 Annie was busy with its fashions and demands, a 
 lady came into her showroom and asked for Miss 
 Brodick. Annie introduced herself, and her visitor 
 smilingly sat down, and said she would wait until 
 there was more leisure, as her wants could not be 
 hurried. " I am of a nervous temperament," she 
 added with another smile, " and so you must give me 
 my own time and way." And Annie nodded her 
 head, and answered, " You shall have all of your 
 own time and way you wish." 
 
 In an hour they were alone in the room, and 
 Annie turned to her visitor. " I can now give you 
 all my attention," she said, " and whatever you 
 wish." 
 
 " I wish I wish Annie, dear Annie ! " 
 
 Then Annie understood, as in a flash of light, that 
 
 she was speaking to her stepmother. " You are Mrs. 
 p >> 
 
 " No, no! Not that name, please." 
 " It is impossible to give you the other." 
 " I know. I anit not expecting it but, Annie, you 
 might call me Jean, as most people do."
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 299 
 
 "Why did you come here?" 
 
 " For more than one reason, but the main one is 
 your father. Ever since Sarah left the business, he 
 has worried night and day about you." 
 
 " What for? I do better without Mrs. Lochrigg." 
 
 " No doubt you do. Annie, if you would try and 
 love me a little if you would give me a chance to 
 win your love " and in her eagerness she rose, laid 
 her hand on Annie's arm, and lifting a loving, plead- 
 ing face to hers, said softly " Try me, dear be just 
 to me, Annie; your father says you would be just 
 if every other virtue failed. I think you would soon 
 learn to put up with me perhaps, in time, you would 
 love me." 
 
 It was impossible to resist the earnest, affection- 
 ate woman. Annie took her hand, and kept it in 
 her own. " Come into my parlor," she said, " and 
 we will have a cup of tea, and talk the subject over." 
 For the subject had suddenly assumed pleasant pos- 
 sibilities to Annie. And wherf 1 Jean finally made 
 some tearful complaints of Leslie Kerr, and Mrs. 
 McLean, and others, Annie was quite ready to take 
 her part. 
 
 " You see, Annie," said Jean, " your father and I 
 have kept silence about you and your affairs, one 
 way or another, and Leslie Kerr and that ill woman
 
 300 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 McLean, Jane McFarlane, Isabel Gowe, and others 
 have taken to pitying you, because pity implies all 
 sorts of unkind things about your father and my- 
 self. * Poor Annie Brodick ! ' is their slogan,, and 
 your father is cruel and selfish, and I am sly, and 
 have the doited auld Deacon under my feet, and so 
 * poor Annie has a dour hard fight wi' a cold world.' 
 That is one o' their ways o' talking. Then likewise 
 they are sure I have got all o' your father's money 
 in my power, and when my uncle left me twenty 
 thousand pounds, they snickered and giggled at the 
 idea and cried, ' A likely story indeed.' If honest in- 
 quiry was made the uncle would neither be found 
 nor heard tell of; and the like o' such slandering 
 talk. And your father says tut, and it's not worth 
 minding, but I do mind it I do that." 
 
 " Poor dear 1 I know you feel it. Why do you 
 not set Sarah on them?" 
 
 "Well, Sarah may be my friend, but she is very 
 thick with all o' them. Since she set hersel* up to 
 be the leader o' social affairs in our town, I have 
 lost all favor. I was President of the Dorcas So- 
 ciety, and the Woman's League, and the Women's 
 Christian Association, but Sarah sits in my chair 
 at all the three clubs now." 
 
 ' To be sure. Sarah will always have the chair 
 wherever she goes."
 
 The Earl and Annie Brodick 301 
 
 "And lately, Annie, there has been queer talk 
 about Earl Crieff and yourself. Sarah is boasting 
 that you will be a countess ere the year is gone by, 
 and your father is troubled in his heart about what 
 is said, and I am troubled too, Annie." 
 
 "What for are you troubled, Jean?" 
 
 " For the sake o' poor Will Morrison that's all. 
 But you know how talk grows, the clash and claver 
 frets your father, and it will fairly break the heart 
 o' poor Will and he'll hear it before his feet are 
 on dry ground." 
 
 " As to the earl, Jean, that is my affair. I can 
 sort it as soon as I like, but I will suffer no one to 
 say a word against either father or you. I have 
 been treated by both of you better than I deserve. 
 You had cause to speak ill of me, but you have never 
 done so." 
 
 " Never one word, Annie." 
 
 "What do you wish me to do, Jean?" 
 
 " I wish you to come to Arran on Friday not too 
 soon in the day and go with your father and my- 
 self to * a Penny Reading at the Woman's Literary 
 Club.' You can dress fine for that occasion, and 
 look the whole crowd o' envious women down." 
 
 " I will come, Jean." 
 
 " I shall not tell your father I have been here." 
 
 " I won't name your visit, Jean ; but I thank you
 
 302 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 for it. Why do you want me to come late in the 
 day?" 
 
 " I have a good reason. I hope you will find it 
 out. And, dear Annie, do give yourself a chance to 
 love me." 
 
 " I'll love you now, and I'll love you more and 
 more as days and weeks go by." 
 
 " Thank you, Annie ! I will do all that is right, 
 dear." 
 
 " I know you will. So will I."
 
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
 
 EAST OR WEST, HOME IS BEST 
 
 ON the Friday following Annie Brodick arose to go 
 to her father. But it cannot be said her return home 
 was in any sense that of a prodigal daughter. She 
 had spent nothing foolishly, she had built up a pros- 
 perous business, she had acquired money and prop- 
 erty, she was in radiant health, and sincerely glad 
 at heart. Only Love compelled her. It was Love 
 that made her dress with such richness and taste. 
 Love that filled both her hands with gifts. Love 
 that made her sing so happily as she packed her 
 trunk, and ran lightly downstairs to the waiting 
 cab. She had arranged her arrival as Jean desired 
 towards evening and no one noticed the veiled lady 
 who drove so quietly away. Jean, however, was 
 watching for her, and their meeting was as pleasant 
 as two happy women could make it. Half-an-hour 
 afterwards, the Deacon opened the garden gate, and 
 they heard him call " Jean ! Jean ! " a little im- 
 patiently. 
 
 " I aye go as far as the gate to meet him," ex- 
 plained Jean, " but we will just let him enter his lane 
 
 303
 
 304 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 this night. So he opened the door with a trifle of 
 fret on his face, and then he saw Jean and Annie 
 sitting affectionately together. Love and astonish- 
 ment made him stand still and silent, then Annie 
 rose and went hurriedly to meet him. 
 
 "Father! father!" she cried, "I have been all 
 wrong, father, forgive me ! " and she stretched out 
 both her hands to him. He took them with pas- 
 sionate tenderness, and drew her to his breast. 
 
 " I forgave thee years ago." 
 
 " And you will love me again, as you used to love 
 me?" 
 
 " I never stopped loving thee not for one 
 moment." 
 
 Then there were some whispered words and kisses 
 not many for Love wants no excuses and no ex- 
 planations. Love casts the whole wrong into some 
 abyss of memory, and forgets it has ever been. In 
 a few moments they turned happy faces to Jean, 
 and going forward together kissed her. And the 
 blessedness of the peacemakers that night filled the 
 old Brodick House with a new and heavenly joy. 
 
 While Jean ordered the tea table, Annie walked 
 with her father round the place. There had been 
 many changes, and Annie noticed and approved 
 them all the new stable and Jean's horse and Vic-
 
 East or West, Home is Best 305 
 
 toria the new well house and the new back gate. 
 Fresh trees had been set out, and a large berry patch 
 put in cultivation and a little glass house in which 
 Jean kept her rare flowers in the Winter, and the 
 Deacon prepared his early vegetables all common 
 things enough, but it is the common things that are 
 the great things in our daily life, and Annie was full 
 of interest, and the Deacon of satisfaction. He 
 held her hand as they walked and talked, just as he 
 had done when she was a little lassie, and when Jean 
 came to tell them " tea was ready " she took Annie's 
 other hand, and thus they brought her to hearth and 
 table between them. 
 
 After tea the Deacon went to the byre and the 
 stable to look after " the beasties " and to smoke his 
 pipe, and Jean and Annie walked about the garden 
 then in all the sweet loveliness of Spring-, with 
 a full May moon above it. The perfume would 
 have been almost intoxicating but for the sharp 
 tang and savor of the fresh salt breeze from the 
 sea ; but at that hour the incense which so fitly sweet- 
 ened their thanksgiving for restored love, was not 
 specially noticed. Annie wanted to know why Jean 
 had asked her to come rather late and avoid notice, 
 and Jean answered: 
 
 " As I told you, there is an entertainment at the
 
 306 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Woman's Club to-night, and I did not want any one 
 to know you were in town especially Mrs. Loch- 
 rigg, and it is hard work keeping anything from her 
 eyes and ears." 
 
 " Oh, I understand Sarah. I do not mind her 
 ways." 
 
 " But she would have told Will, and that would 
 spoil everything." 
 
 "Will Morrison?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Is he here?" 
 
 " I think so. He reached Glasgow this afternoon, 
 and there was a telegram from him, promising to be 
 at the entertainment to-night. He is our great 
 singer, you know." 
 
 "Singer I Will Morrison sing! I am astonished." 
 
 " Did you never hear him? " 
 
 " Never." 
 
 " I thought as much. And if Will knew you 
 were in the hall to-night, he would be dumb; and 
 that would be ten thousand pities, for he is a singer 
 in ten thousand; and if he should take a violin in his 
 hand it would not be catgut he touched Oh, no! 
 Will would play upon your heartstrings." 
 
 "However, wherever, did he learn?" 
 
 " The music and the song were in his heart, and
 
 East or West, Home is Best 307 
 
 at sea he found plenty of time to practice. If he 
 does not know you are present, you will both see and 
 hear the real Will Morrison but if he knows " 
 
 "Oh, he shall not know I" 
 
 " I do not want Sarah to know either. She would 
 make a speech about your return, and be sure to 
 say good-naturedly, of course something to make 
 your ears burn." 
 
 The little plan pleased Annie, and she fell readily 
 into its spirit and motive. They pledged the Deacon 
 to silence, and then went early to the hall and slipped 
 without notice into their seats. The place was 
 soon crowded, and at eight o'clock the curtain went 
 up, and showed them the platform with the per- 
 formers on it, and Mrs. Lochrigg in the President's 
 chair. She was richly and fitly gowned, and rose 
 with abounding self-possession and opened the 
 meeting. 
 
 But among the performers there was no Will 
 Morrison, and Annie was disappointed. She lis- 
 tened listlessly to a woman singing " I'm O'er Young 
 to Marry Yet," and to several young and middle- 
 aged men reciting for all Scotchmen sing or re- 
 cite their national loves and glories and then she 
 heard the President making an apology for " the 
 vocalist whom they all loved, Captain Will Morri-
 
 308 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 son, who had promised to be with them, but was 
 not but Will's not to be blamed," she continued, 
 as she fell into her usual familiar eloquence; " if the 
 man was driving a lubberly engine, on a straight steel 
 rail, with steam enough to blow her to pieces under 
 his hand, we should have the right to expect him on 
 schedule time prompt but when he's driving a 
 contrary ship, against winds shifting and unruly, and 
 waves in tantrums and tempers, we be to make every 
 allowance for the same; for a ship is like a womar, 
 you never know where you have her, and our Will's 
 ship at least has a woman's name, for she's called 
 The Lass of Arran. Perhaps there is some lass in 
 this meeting who knows why she is so called. I do 
 not, and who can tell Will Morrison's ? " 
 
 At this interrupted question, Will suddenly ap- 
 peared. He said a few words to the President 
 who assumed her most presidential air, and then 
 added, " Ladies and gentlemen, it is just as I ex- 
 pected, the ship was to blame, of course the man 
 was right he always is right. We all of us know 
 that much or ought to. The Captain will now 
 give us the song he has been keeping us on the watch 
 and the wait for." 
 
 Annie watched the Captain, and could hardly be- 
 lieve her eyes. Will Morrison shy I Who said it?
 
 East or West, Home is Best 309 
 
 Who thought it? He came forward with an easy, 
 commanding manner, bowed with beaming smiles 
 to the cheering audience, then went to the piano, 
 struck a few clear chords, and as he was walking 
 forward again began singing in thrilling, resonant 
 tones 
 
 "I learnt to walk to the sound of the waves, 
 
 The shingly beach along; 
 The salt spray dashed against the pane; 
 That was my cradle song. 
 
 " The sea bird's cry was far before 
 
 The thrush's song to me; 
 O, my heart still longs and listens for 
 The music of the sea ! 
 
 "To drag nets full of gleaming fish 
 
 Under the silver moon ; 
 To watch ships on the far blue line, 
 Grow nearer in the noon; 
 
 " To make friends with the storm, instead 
 
 Of a city's din, for me; 
 My heart still longs and listens for 
 The music of the sea ! " 
 
 The Deacon had once called such reunions " in- 
 credible misery," but he had been in course of edu- 
 cation since that time, and no one among the crowd 
 of delighted listeners expressed themselves more 
 enthusiastically than Robert Brodick. He led the 
 clamor for the encore, and was hardly then satisfied.
 
 310 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 Annie was quiet; she could not talk; she had this new 
 man to consider. It was a Will of whom she had 
 never dreamt but she liked him. He was hand- 
 some, she had always seen that; his uniform was 
 handsome, and became him perfectly; that was noth- 
 ing strange; his gentle voice, and beaming smile, 
 these things were familiar; it was his air and man- 
 ner that astonished her. There was no trace of 
 shyness in anything he did or said. He walked to 
 the front of the platform as calmly as if he was on 
 his own deck, and his attitude was that of a man con- 
 fident of himself, and expressing that confidence by 
 a manner easy and graceful, with a touch of old- 
 fashioned courtesy in it. 
 
 She told herself she could wish nothing changed 
 about him, and when, in response to urgent demands, 
 he sang two more songs, she sighed with pleasure 
 and relief to find they were without a trace of that 
 comic element which is the great vocal temptation 
 of inexperienced men. Will kindled a tempestuous 
 patriotism as he sang of the mariners 
 
 " that guard our native seas, 
 Whose flag has braved a thousand years, 
 The battle and the breeze: " 
 
 and finally sent every one home with hearts full of 
 kindness humming,
 
 East or West, Home is Best 311 
 
 " Should auld acquaintance be forgot 
 And days o' lang syne." 
 
 Then came Will's surprise. When he reached the 
 door, the Deacon with his wife and daughter stood 
 in the center of a little crowd of friends, and Annie 
 stepped forward to greet him, to praise him, to 
 thank him for the delight he had given her. She 
 understood now his weakness, and she did not per- 
 mit him to fall into it. Her kindness and pretty 
 familiarities kept him at his normal pitch, and when 
 Sarah had exhausted her exclamations, he proposed 
 the party should go to Lochrigg House for supper. 
 
 " Indeed, No ! " answered Sarah. " I am not pre- 
 pared for such an invasion." 
 
 "I am! " cried Jean; " it will be an extraordinar 
 pleasure and compliment. Robert will drive Sarah 
 and myself home, and there's nothing to hinder 
 Annie and Will sauntering up the hill in the moon- 
 light. It is a heavenly night to loiter a wee in." 
 
 Then with a happy manifest hurry, Will took 
 Annie's hand and slipped it under his arm, and they 
 walked away together walked away consciously 
 into Loveland, and fearlessly faced its delights and 
 its dangers. Song had enchanted Will, its influence 
 was still over him; he was in a condition where song 
 and love make a man eloquent; and before he had
 
 312 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 time to consider anything but his great love, and its 
 need of expression, he was pouring out his heart's 
 wealth of long-nursed affection. His words were 
 sweet and eloquent to Annie, and though she was 
 speechless, she gave him signs of her sympathy that 
 he could not mistake. At last he asked: 
 
 "Annie, dearest girl on earth, have you heard, 
 do you know what my words mean? " 
 
 " Will," she answered, " dear Will, I have been 
 waiting for you to say these very words all of two 
 years. I know, Will, all that you mean, and I am 
 proud and happy to know it." 
 
 Then the glorious walk was a series of interludes 
 
 whose joy cannot be written down, for 
 
 i 
 
 " Love's the shyest bird 
 
 Mortal ever heard, 
 Listen rapt and silent when he sings; 
 
 Do not seek to see, 
 
 Lest the vision be, 
 But a flutter of departing wings." 
 
 Supper was nearly over when they reached home, 
 but Jean was a sweet hostess; she declared " it was 
 a pity for all who could not linger till midnight un- 
 der such a sky. If Sarah, herself and the Deacon 
 had not, all of them, been under the thumb of rheu- 
 matism, they would have loitered a while also " and
 
 East or West, Home is Best 313 
 
 so on. But her pleasant excusing was not necessary, 
 for Will went at once to Annie's father. 
 
 " Deacon," he said, " Annie has just promised to 
 be my wife, and we are seeking your consent and 
 blessing. God knows, I never expected such an as- 
 tonishing happiness." 
 
 " Annie has chosen well," answered the father. 
 " I could not wish her a better husband. God bless 
 you both ! " and he gave his hand to Will, and lifted 
 Annie's lovely face and kissed it. Sarah whimpered 
 a little, and Jean smiled, and the lovers tried to eat 
 some supper, but did not succeed very well. 
 
 " You may take away your dishes, Jean," said 
 Sarah. " Eating is too common a thing for folks 
 in the glorified condition o' newly engaged lovers. 
 And order my Victoria, Jean. I am going home to 
 my bed, for I'll be here early in the morning. I have 
 something to say to Miss Annie, ere she becomes 
 Mrs. Morrison." 
 
 After Sarah's departure the Deacon went into 
 the garden for half-an-hour to " bethink himself," 
 and Jean and Annie went to the room Jean had fur- 
 nished for her stepdaughter with every suitable com- 
 fort and beauty. They were too wide awake to 
 sleep, and longed for a little private talk on the 
 great event that had occurred. Throwing wide the
 
 314 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 casements to let the scent of the lilacs fill the pretty 
 place, Jean said : 
 
 ' You are very happy, Annie, and you are going 
 to be far happier, my dear lassie." 
 
 " I believe so, Jean, and I owe you much this 
 night." 
 
 " Love is the greatest thing in life, Annie." 
 
 " I am sure of it, and yet " 
 
 "What, dearie?" 
 
 "It is not the greatest thing. I thought once 
 that it was, but I found out through many sorrow- 
 ful days that truth and honor and courage are still 
 greater things, and that love is not worth a penny 
 bit unless it grows out on the same stem with them. 
 That is why I love Will. I cannot separate his love 
 from his honor, and truth, and courage, and so my 
 heart rests surely on him." 
 
 Nor did it strike these two simple women that 
 they had come naturally by the faith inherent in 
 every true love, to the faith apprehended by every 
 true lover 
 
 " I could not love thee, dear, so much 
 Loved I not honor more." 
 
 " There is one thing, Jean, which on this night af- 
 fects me beyond all other considerations it is the
 
 East or West, Home is Best 315 
 
 wonderful ways by which I have been compelled to 
 accept the love and happiness God intended for me. 
 I refused Will, I was determined to marry Roy, and 
 I have been forced by a series of unlooked-for events 
 to put Roy far from my thoughts, and joyfully ac- 
 cept Will. I have been compelled to take what I 
 did not want, and to do what I hated to do, in order 
 that I might receive the desire of my heart. And I 
 think constantly of what Professor Balmuto said to- 
 me one night, when I was in great trouble and anx- 
 iety, about a strange step I had been forced, as I 
 thought, to take." 
 
 " You need not have taken that step, Annie.'* 
 " I know that now, Jean, but my courage and my 
 love failed me, and I did take it. Well then, I was 
 forced to come back to the place of my first wrong 
 step. And, Jean dear, if I took the wrong step be- 
 cause of your coming here, see now, it was you who- 
 came, and with sweet compulsion forced me back 
 to my point of turning, and to-night I do thank God 
 with all my heart that the same goal is still on the 
 same track. Oh, Jean, as the good Doctor said, The 
 Hands of Compulsion are the Hands of Compassion* 
 For the road was made smooth to me, and all the 
 way I was carried safely in the arms of Love." 
 " Doctor Balmuto was a good man."
 
 316 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 " He told me to throw myself absolutely upon the 
 belief that everything which came to me and was 
 given to me was the very thing I needed, the very 
 thing worth having. Trouble and entanglements we 
 get through our own will, and our own choosing. It 
 is the truth, Jean. Then when we know not what 
 to do, the Hands of Compulsion force us into the 
 right way. This time God used your hands, Jean," 
 and she lifted Jean's hands and kissed them. 
 
 The next morning Sarah was early at the Brodick 
 house, for of course there was a great deal to say 
 and to do before two lives, hitherto set so far apart, 
 could become comfortably one. Sarah fretted, or 
 pretended to fret, o'er the break-up of such a grand 
 business as she had founded. But Annie, on this sub- 
 ject, would listen to no arguments. 
 
 " I am resolved," she said positively. " I want 
 a home. I am weary of showrooms." 
 
 " And pray, Miss, how will you make a home with 
 your man thousands o' miles away from it, the better 
 half o' his time?" 
 
 " Will knows. He will tell you." 
 ' Will knows ! What credulous rubbish ! But of 
 course Will is the oracle now once it was poor 
 Aunt Sarah." 
 
 At this perilous juncture, Will and the Deacon
 
 East or West, Home is Best 317 
 
 entered together, and Annie's remark was justified. 
 " I have something to tell you," said the Deacon> 
 " something you will all be glad to hear. Will, our 
 Will, is going into partnership with Joseph Glenden- 
 ning, the big shipbuilder. Many years ago Will 
 saved him from drowning, and ever since he has been 
 asking Will to join him in his business. For he 
 knows, as well as all Clydeside and Arran, that in 
 the matter of yachts, and yacht-building, we may all 
 take off our hats to Will Morrison. I remember 
 when he was a slip of a youth, that people used to 
 say, * Will got a yacht-master's certificate with his 
 baptismal lines,' and I'm not denying it; for yachts, 
 and all that belongs to them, are a kind of knowl- 
 edge you bring into the world with you." 
 
 " You were once keen about yachts yourself, Dea- 
 con," said Will. 
 
 " In a way, Will, but I am knowing nothing about 
 the mathematics o' shipbuilding. I never trusted 
 to figures, or easy lines, or small displacements. I 
 like a stout breeze and a double-reefed mainsail. 
 But it is years and years since I raced a forty-ton 
 cutter up the back o' Cantyre, north to Tobermory 
 a bygone now and we will let it rest, but I can 
 tell you all, I am gey glad Will is going with Glen- 
 denning, and I have just told him if I can help him
 
 318 The Hands of Compulsion 
 
 in the way o' siller, he can call on me. Annie has 
 no reason to go penniless to her new home." 
 
 " Right, Deacon Brodick," said Sarah. " And 
 as Sarah Lochrigg is never behind anyone in a kind 
 deed, or a good investment, I may as well say I 
 can go as far as you, and maybe a step or two 
 further." 
 
 " I also have a little to spare, if Will needs more 
 than he has ready," said Jean, with a nod and a 
 smile at the happy young man. But Annie, who 
 had more money in Glasgow banks than anyone 
 dreamed of, said not a word. She was thinking of 
 her grandmother's and mother's silent money wait- 
 ing so long for her "emergency"; and she was in- 
 clined to keep up a security against ill-fortune so de- 
 fensible. No one noticed her reticence but Sarah, 
 and Sarah's remark made with a kind of mocking 
 admiration was not clear in its meaning to the un- 
 enlightened. 
 
 " You are an excellent young person, Annie Brod- 
 ick," she said, " and if King Solomon had happened 
 to discover you, he would have found the one wise 
 woman in a thousand, that he didn't find." 
 
 " I generally know what I am doing, Sarah," 
 Annie answered, with a smile and an intelligent look, 
 which plainly asked for the subject to be dropped.
 
 East or West, Home is Best 319 
 
 " You think you know what you are doing. Are 
 you sure o' that?" continued Sarah. "Lizzie Mc- 
 Donald was saying to me, only yestreen, ' I hear the 
 Brodicks are to have a countess in their family.' And 
 I said, ' Indeed, Miss McDonald, and who may that 
 be ? ' And she said, ' It is well known that Miss Brod- 
 ick is engaged to Earl Crieff, and their marriage only 
 waiting till the year o' mourning for the dead wife is 
 by past. Now, then, how is that for a report? And 
 I want to know why Miss Brodick is putting away 
 the Earl o' Crieff for the like o' Will Morrison? ' " 
 
 Then Annie, blushing divinely, went to her lover's 
 side, and he drew her closer within his arms, and she 
 answered in tones sweeter than song, 
 
 " Because she loved the sailor J "
 
 M 
 
 8JJ